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Volume XV Plymouth, Mass., June, 1936 Number 1
Published This Year as a Senior Year Book
1935 THE PILGRIM STAFF 1936
Editor-in-Chief ALBA MARTINELLI
Assistant Editor-in-Chief JEAN WHITING
Literary Editor DOROTHY PERKINS
Assistant Literary Editor AUDREY DUTTON
Business Manager ALAN HEY
Assistant Business Manager FRANCIS SCHEID
Boys' Athletics ALTON WHITING
Girls' Athletics JANET CLARK
Art PRISCILLA McCOSH
Exchange Editor WARREN BRADFORD
Assistant Exchange Editor LOIS BREWSTER
French Editor ARLENE RAYMOND
Latin Editor ELIZABETH BELCHER
Alumni Editor ELIZABETH RYAN
Joke Editor GEORGE CAMPBELL
School News Editor MARY BODELL
Feature Editor LUCY MAYO
Assistant Feature Editor RALPH LAMBORGHINI
Table of Contents
History of t$e Class of 1936 4
Last Will and Testament 5
Parting Shots, 6
Class Prophecy 19
Overheard: Choice Remarks . . 21
Thoughts on the Advent of Commencement 22
Motion Picture Review 23
Class Song 24
Try These on Your Piano 25
What is Your Choice? 25
Class Poem .- 26
For the Love of a Lady 27
Bargain (?) Matinee 28
I Dreamed a Dream 28
The Fates Will Attend 29
The Little People 3 3
Musical Mysteries 3 3
Sophomore Poetry Page ,. 34
Money Is As Money Does 35
The Black Plague 35
Nothing Ventured — Nothing Gained 37
Coney Island 37
Spring in England 39
Freshman Fancies 40
The Irony of Fate 41
The Modern Girl 41
Hill Fever 41
An Impending Battle 41
The Good Old Days 43
FOREIGN LANGUAGES 44
We Couldn't Collect a Price — 44
Sand Dune Grass 47
Contentment . . 47
Confessions of a G-Man 52
The Alumni Scrapbook 54
A Tribute 54
Principal's Column 55
In Memoriam 5 5
UNDER THE WHITE CUPOLA 57
The Old Man .....'. 58
One Withered Rose 58
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Class of 1936
Plymouth High School
President ANTHONY TAVERNELLI
Vice-President MARIO GARUTI
Secretary THELMA FERIOLI
Treasurer RALPH LAMBORGHINI
Turquoise Blue and Silver
Fortiter, Fideliter, Feliciter
History of the Class of 1936
IT seems strange to say that "we" —
the Class of '36 — are history. To
sigh and say, "Tempus fugit" is admit-
tedly trite and yet, how better can the
thought be expressed? Graduation
draws near, and suddenly all the trival-
ities of these last four years become im-
Before we review the highlights of
these four years, let us first list a few
facts for the enlightenment of the gen-
eral public, that it may not judge us too
1. We are semi-depression babes,
having for four years nervously tried
— with the rest of the country — to
round the corner to prosperity.
2. Since our Junior High School
days we have hoped that "next year"
[0 Temporal Mores!] we would be
pursuing the paths of learning in a new
school. Having just missed this glori-
ous experience by one year, we can
hardly be blamed if our faith in man-
kind is more than shaken.
-3, We have passed through four
years filled with New Deals, knitted
suits, musical extravaganzas, and floods
— therefore we feel that we should be
treated with compassion.
4. We are a disillusioned, crest-
fallen group that failed in its secret
ambition to discover a fourth dimen-
Now, having placed our cards upon the
ancestral table, let us proceed with the
Shades of Lionel Barrymore, what
have we here? Proudly we list a few
of the dramatic successes presented by
our class in assembly: "Sardines,"
Moreover, our class spirit manifested
itself when the Freshman teams played
the upperclassmen. We even developed
a class cheer!
We also distinguished ourselves in a
ticket-selling contest for the operetta,
the "Pirates of Penzance."
Timidly we planned our first class
dance — the never-to-be-forgotten Fresh-
man Dance held on March 17, 1933 —
and surprised even ourselves with its
So joyous were we to leave behind us
the ignominy of freshman days that
we quite outdid ourselves in our en-
deavors. Mrs. Swift's Creative Writ-
ing Club lived up to its name and went
even further in sponsoring the first
Sophomore Hop. Its success prompted
the club to celebrate with a trip to
Braves Field in Boston to see a game
Lady Luck smiled on the celebrants
and made the game a sixteen-inning
one. If you wish to be deluged with
superlatives, ask anyone who went to
the game whether or not he enjoyed it!
In this momentous year the S. A. S.
began to function actively.
Tra la la la! for we are juniors! —
so rang our joyous song as we ap-
proached a step closer to that lofty pin-
nacle, the senior year.
"Pinafore," an operetta by Gilbert
and Sullivan, was produced with many
juniors in the cast. No doubt our
teachers recall the event — we troubled
them, we fear, by humming and whist-
ling the tunes from the operetta for
weeks and weeks.
When hard work becomes pleasure,
that's news — at any rate it did to
our committee preparing for the Junior
Prom ! Pseans of praise could be lav-
ished on the affair, but let it suffice to
say in good old American slang: "It
The patient were rewarded. We
meant to make our Senior year the best
of all, and we like to think we have
Our Senior Dance, held on December
13, was well attended, and our senior
get-togethers in preparation for the
dance were lots of fun.
The S. A. S. held the first School
Circus, and the results were so gratify-
ing that we feel distinct pleasure when
we say that many seniors helped to
make it such a success that it will in
all probability become an annual school
Now, having passed through the
calamity of being a freshmen, the vis-
sisitudes of a sophomore, having sur-
vived the joys of a junior and striven to
attain dignity as a senior, we, the class
of 1936, thoughtfully and a little sadly
write "The End" to our high school days
at P. H. S. Vale!
Alba Martinelli '36
Last Will and Testament
WE, the class of 1936, having by vari-
ous means and methods successfully
passed four years' trial in the court of
P. H. S. do, in all fairness to the facul-
ty and underclassmen, bequeath the
To Mr. Shipman : Our admiration for
his equanimity in dealing with us and
our major and minor difficulties.
To Mrs. Raymond: A tall silk hat
from which to pull more surprises for
the classes to come. (Of course, these
will be unpredictable, but they will be of
the same general nature as her famous
psychological tests, memory tests, and
To Mr. Smiley: To aid in his vag-
aries, field glasses for looking off into
space. (We regret that they are not
so powerful as the new 200-inch tele-
scope at the Wilson observatory, but we
hope that they will serve their purpose.)
To Miss McNerny : Our sincere hope
that the spacious "cuisine" in the new
High School will not be in such a posi-
tion as to catch all fragrant odors from
the chemistry laboratory. (Biscuits
saturated with H 2 S are most unpalata-
To Mr. Ingraham : A little bottle of
glue with which to stick down the little
plume of hair on the back of his head.
Of course, a pair of scissors would be as
appropriate, but would not carry the
To Mr. Mongan : Aware of his habit
of tossing chalk at unsuspecting pupils
in his math classes, we present a box of
rubber crayons. (We'll accept thanks
at any time, Freshmen.)
To Miss Brown : A cushion-top desk
to be used solely as a chair. We could
throw in a footstool but it might hit
someone "en route."
To Miss Locklin: A "grandpa"
grand piano in the new school so that
the remarkable quality of her playing
will be the more appreciated.
To Mr. Bagnall : A luxurious ori-
ental rug in his new home room to si-
lence those who persist in wearing
leather heels. However, in case that
does not serve its purpose, we add a box
of powdered wax to make slippery the
floor. Then he may chuckle gleefully at
a pupil's humiliation.
To Miss Judd: Sole charge over the
new candy counter, if any, to be in-
stalled in the new P. H. S. We under-
stand that she has a very "sweet tooth."
To Miss Kelly: Diamond-topped desks
in her new home room to resist the ef-
forts of any and all initial carvers.
To Miss Humphrey: An English
class containing no one who considers
himself an outstanding comedian.
Continued on Page 24
We seldom see him talking:
He seems to us most shy,
But faster beat some girlish
Whene'er he passes by.
Neat as wax,
Our grandmas opined:
It must have been Evelyn
They had in mind.
"Vinnie's" in his counting
Counting all our dimes:
Cheerful and efficient
In good or parlous times.
A ready smile and sparkling
For all who ever greet her;
No person sane, we still main-
Discards the chance to meet
She's one of the first in this
And first in "Friendship's
She's never too tired or busy
To stop and chat with you.
Ask him to help you,
He'll gladly say, "Yes";
His talents are numerous
We may well confess.
That's not a twinkle in his
It's just a look of doubt:
As if you didn't watch your
He'd surely find you out.
In our class of '36,
We feel that we've been lucky
To have a girl so full of fun
As this one we call "Ducky."
Bill may seem a quiet lad,
He isn't one at all:
He nearly wakes the dead each
He stamps into study hall.
Here is a girl
Who is always busy:
But does she get cross
When we call her Lizzie ! !
Our Deane's not "Dizzy" -
far from it,
He is a "man of affairs" —
He's ready and eager
Though payment be meagre,
To solve our class problems
And shoulder our cares.
In fair or stormy weather,
It matters not a bit,
Betty's hair is curly —
How we envy it!
We know why he is happy
('Cause she's coming back in
But just what is the reason
They call him "The Goon"?
He plays the game of football
Till we fear his nose won't
But in the classroom Eddie's
Supporting a New Deal.
Last winter every Saturday
She appeared as a Pilgrim
In basketball at the Cordage
Her long arms were displayed.
She may be little, but O My!
Who wouldn't take the chance
To "trip the light fantastic"
With Connie at a dance?
"Kelly" loves the movies,
She goes whene'er she's able —
The handsome actors thrill
Especially Clark Gable.
The F'Amos and D'Andy Cir-
Held all of us spellbound;
Especially the end of the ele-
(That was Campbell dancing
Your coal-black hair
In graceful swirls
Is quite the envy
Of all the girls.
"Tarzan" has to walk now,
He used to have a "crate."
And in the evening you may
"Tarzan and His Mate."
We've heard he likes to write,
He's stricter with himself than
If he never skips a night.
Katherine takes her own time
To form a word or two;
But she's an expert penman
Compared to me — or you.
The best sport
On Lincoln Street
Hits the top
On our score sheet.
Not a care,
"Blimp" and "Mundy"
A cheery lad
With flaming hair;
You can't mistake him
Who's this guy Cupid
We've been hearing about?
We have a suspicion
You must have found out.
Tony likes his History (?)
And he's very fond of cook-
But he surely does some queer
When teachers are not look-
To be a Winchell, a Baron von
Or an Irish G-Man — even so —
'Twould be of no use; she'd
discover your ruse,
And her secrets you'd still
A quiet miss
With a winning smile —
This is Mary
All the while.
•'Number, please?" you'll hear
As you lift the receiver one
And, we add, her temper's rare
For one who has such bright
What's in a name? I ask you,
I'd always had the idea
That a Deacon took life seri-
Nor stopped to fool and jeer.
Red is an exception
To the general rule;
If he has a temper,
He hides it well in school.
If we meet Margie fifty years
We'll not pass her by, we
Remembered forever by class-
For her braid and incompar-
To teach the child his A. B.
To nurse through scarlet fe-
In whatever work she under-
She'll emulate the beaver.
The lady dances,
We very well know;
Some day she may be
The "star" of a show.
She hasn't a Packard to offer
Or even an old Ford car —
But come her way, and she'll
A ride on the handle bar.
"Shorty-Dot," so staid and
Wishes she could be quite tall :
She can't put her height to
For we like her just the same.
If you would be our life-long
(And you have what it takes,)
Just share with us the samples
Of the cakes your father
Here is a keen collector:
Of prints or rarest china?
Alas! you're wrong! for Thel-
That doggie pins are finer.
So different from the foxes
We've ever read about:
But should we call you "Reddy
We really are in doubt.
Charlie wants to be a dancer,
Ask Dot, she surely knows:
But what we've often won-
Who steps most on whose
Though human bipeds
Aren't his game,
We urge caution
Just the same.
"Better to wear out than rust
Says Louisa of her tongue:
And upon the quiet classroom
Many questions she has flung.
Four nights a week he travels
From Carver to our dear old
Tell us — is Carl the reason
That happy twinkle's in your
His "bow-tie" inspiration
Has been such a sensation
That his next creation
May well sweep the nation.
Thelma is a dancer
As everybody knows —
And when it comes to solo
She's right up on her toes!
Alma is an optomist
Who knows each day will
Plenty of fun for the working
Yo! ho! wake up and sing!
When we first knew him, he
rode a bike,
For he had to come so far,
But now the boy's gone up in
And he drives a snappy car.
Our Mary's not contrary
We have cause to know,
A classmate more agreeable
It would be hard to grow.
Lawrence is a bashful boy;
If he should raise his head
To meet a maiden's lifted eyes,
He'd turn a fiery red.
She can beat teachers
On one score at least:
If questions were courses,
She'd have a feast.
This boy owns a little red
No, it's not full of addresses —
ft contains time-tested excuses
Which have served him well,
O Captain! Our Captain!
Those hockey scores well prove
That for top rank in our
For no one you need move.
When our hockey team
Unconquered was last fall,
Who kept the balls from out
Why — that was Daisy Hall!
Laughing, joking Martha,
In stature — rather short —
But that's of no importance,
You see — she's a good sport.
Don't try it on us, Bob: we've
seen you do it;
(Now watch his face quite
And his quick, disarming
Don't try it on us, Bob: we
see right through it.
Our poems of the sea may
A lively imagination,
But here's a girl who ought
From close association.
Full of glee —
Fits Dick to a "T".
Rossy's often late for school,
Early rising she abhors:
But when the time comes to
She's the first one through the
"Haste" is Fritz's middle
She's always in a hurry;
Yet she can joke the whole
And never seem to worry.
Here comes Honey!
She's sure to brighten
A clash of steel on steel
Doesn't always mean a duel;
It may be Brother Hughes
In his flivver, late for school.
A visitor to our school
Sees our Ruth — "Oh, My!
I must have the wrong build-
What is this? Junior High?"
Though you sign yourself H.
We'll offer you two more:
H for the very best of Health
And for Happiness galore.
If you go to "Roseland"
Any Saturday night,
There you will find Wilma,
For dancing's her delight.
Louise is always cheerful
As you are well aware,
And even though she's tiny,
Charlie doesn't care.
She has changed her policy
On one important rule:
For now she's never tardy
When she comes to school.
Johnny has something
Which resembles a car,
And he uses this taxi
For his friends near and far.
Our Addie is shy
And she wears quiet clothes,
But she always is smiling
Wherever she goes.
Writing notes in study hall
Is Mimi's specialty;
She'll pass one any time she
The teacher cannot see.
You're our Demosthenes,
You're our Calhoun —
Ready to serve us,
Asking no boon.
She can't speak for others
But for herself she knows
That an even disposition
Makes more friends than foes.
In school you seldom hear
He's the quietest of boys;
But — wait until he gets out-
Then — listen to the noise!
"You really ought to be in
For we are sure you're better
Many of those lovely photos
Taken by your "picture man."
Barbara likes to take long
She also likes to ride;
She doesn't care which one
If Willard's by her side.
You've proved an old saying
Of some renown —
"You can't ever keep
A good man down."
If he ever uttered
Ten words at a time,
There'd be little point
To this little rhyme.
Like a diamond in a rock pile
You stand out from the rest:
You do your work (and oth-
In short, you are the best!
He memorizes history
That is, as a rule —
He should be the finest patriot
That we have in school.
Lucy's not a government
As a postman we fear she'd
Even though she rides around
In a car marked "U. S. Mail."
"Be bright and cheerful"
That's her creed —
And in this way
She will succeed.
A sturdy buccaneer was she
Who sang with all her might —
And far above the others'
Her alto filled the night.
We think that Helen's fortu-
For she's been given a chance
To take a trip, when shu
To Germany and France.
You've heard the story
Of Jack and Jill —
Do you know the one
Of Marion and Bill?
As Mrs. Pencil
In the play
You did your good deed
For the day.
He's not Rudy Vallee
Nor is he a Bing:
But somehow we know
That he likes to sing.
Barbara's thoughts in Kings-
For Paul lives there, you
When summer comes, in his
A-riding they will go.
'Most any girl would like to
His crest of rusty hair;
But in the town of Framing-
The "owner's" waiting there.
We like the way you do your
Your blond curls look so
And you're not so bad at
You need take no back seat.
Dancing's an art, he's discov-
It isn't that he doesn't dare —
But try as he may, we really
He still can't beat Fred As-
His eyes begin to sparkle
And wrinkle up with laughter
When someone talks of Scotch
(For that is what he's after.)
Here's a young lady
Who sews a fine seam;
From linen and cotton
She fashions a dream.
We fear you have a tendency
To emulate the cow:
She chews her cud; you chew
That's your weakness now.
DORIS PEDERZANI YAciA\*A
Doris plays her fiddle well,
Her orchestra leads with
And, when she takes Dr.
Our pride we can't conceal.
If only you'd make up your
'Twould save us time and woe :
For every time we write this
With a different boy you go!
He seems to thirst for argu-
The "other side" he sees —
For no matter what the ques-
He has a name that well sug-
The ancient, sturdy Viking:
And like them, too, an eye of
And for the sea a liking.
You've done it before
And you'll do it again:
You allow one minute
Where we allow ten.
He's interested in engines,
Jig-saws and chemistry, too:
And, even though he's quiet,
You'll never find him blue.
Ethel is little
And always most neat
From the top of her head
To the tip of her feet.
Now we have heard the story
Of how much you like to
But must you say when you
"Now, don't I sound like
"Spinach's no diet —
I won't even try it,"
Says Poluzzi, our sailor man;
"But I want wim and wigor
So I natcherlly figger
I'll chew all the toothpicks I
A flash down the floor —
A roar in the hall —
Up goes our score —
Bob plays basketball!
Arlene has points in common
With the tortoise and the
If slow and steady wins the
We know that she won't fail.
Hully's a whizz at basketball
And deserves our honorable
But he really doesn't have to
To attract that girl's atten-
Ruth surely knows her music
And more, too, if you please:
'Tis said she knows her alpha-
Especially the three C's.
Flying colors —
Dancing feet —
And hard to beat!
That she'll reach the top
There's no denying,
For here's one girl
Who keeps on trying.
She can lift her voice in song,
She can charm us with her
Since she's guided by two
For her no fear we'll nurse.
A lady in white she would be,
A lady most gentle and fair;
She would take your hand and
To — the dentist's chair.
As a wooden soldier
You are really very good —
But there are rumors 'round
Your heart's not made of
When you see someone looking
As though she'd lost a pal;
That is our Elizabeth
Looking for her Al.
We find it hard to picture you,
By merry music led,
Shuffling gayly down the
Your hat on the side of your
Ellen's always smiling,
She's always bright and gay —
She brings a ray of sunshine
Into our darkest day.
Smartly dressed is Katherine,
Happy, carefree, gay:
She will greet you with a smile
At any time of day.
Kay and her chatter
In Room Fourteen;
When she's not talking
It's calm and serene.
We search for a word that
will suit you —
You're hardly loquacious, we
We have it; tenacious will
For you work with both cour-
age and zeal.
We wonder where he keeps
Behind a door or on a shelf —
He'd better choose a balcony —
'Tis Romeo! Now can't you
A sober or an impish air
He can assume at will:
He puts on the face that he
Thinks will fill the bill.
Lovely plants and flowers
About which sings the bard
Impress our Joseph little:
They grow in his back yard.
We wrote Shirley Temple
To get her O. K.,
"Curley-Top" you may be
If you can keep it that way.
Pete has perfected a system
He uses whene'er he's at large;
"Crashing the gate," he calls
But it's getting in free of
If for the town's most gener-
You would like to pass,
Just deed to us that car of
We'd try to buy the gas.
Since "American Culture" is
And you still have so much to
Just jump up on this soap box
And we'll all shout, "Hurray!"
He has sworn
To strive until
He is mayor
Whenever we see her beach
We shut our eyes and start in
For these new drivers, as we
Don't bother with signs which
say, "Go slow."
Great friends of the ages
Have often been men,
But to their true friendship
This quatrain we pen. — (Vide:
We may call our Tony
But it's not because he's slow;
Give him a football and a field
And then just watch him go.
For choosing clothes and
This girl has, a flair:
She can tell you, if she will,
What the well-dressed miss
Why don't you join a Walk-
You've had much practice,
we've been told —
And, if you left all those books
First place you might even
Alvin tried to play the tuba
In assembly, loud and clear,
He said, "The music goes
'round and 'round
But why doesn't it come out
You play the sax for Bunny
And dress with taste, 'tis true:
"The Lochinvar of '36"
Is the name we give to you.
In tailored clothes;
Doris is serious
To see you go a-walking
Down Manomet's Main Street
Must give all the maidens
A most unusual treat!
Five girls and a Tubb (s)
We wonder which one
Is going to get Doug?
"Babe" lives far from "city
In fact, out in the sticks;
But we all agree that she's
The "Venus of '36."
We know you're sweet on
And feel there is no other:
But, when we ask how Bobby
We sure don't mean your
Elizabeth is charming:
In fact, she rates A+,
She is a wow in every sport
Quite invaluable to us!
Does Polly want a cracker?
The question rates a zero:
She wants to know how she
Which boy to make her hero.
They call him "Sonny"
In spite of his size:
His good disposition
To that must give rise.
His pastime is unusual,
Now you just take a look
And you'll see Albert Walton
Learning how to cook.
ALTON WHITING »v-
My goodness! what's the mat-
Can't you manage your own
As a Scotchman in a High-
You took no rear seat!
Sodium and chlorine
Did make her halt:
But she'll live it down
If she's worth her salt!
On most topics of the day
He won't rise to the bait:
But he'll hazard an opinion
On the next heavyweight.
We know what your ambition
May you reach your goal:
A famous author you would
Read from pole to pole.
But we haven't
One to spare!
"Who's afraid of the big bad
The three little piggies ask:
If Jin had her way, she'd let
the "Wolfe" play
And take all the piggies to
Great friends of the ages
Have often been men,
But to their true friendship
This quatrain we pen. — (Vide:
If we should have an amateur
And you should play a song
On that harmonica of yours,
You'd never get the gong!
We don't know much about
For she hasn't been here long:
But, if she keeps on making
She surely can't go wrong.
"Bunny" and his Boston-bag!
What would he do without it?
He studies hard, no duty
There is no doubt about it.
We doubt if they can make it.
But we'll let all comers try:
Now in your surname can you
A z, v, k, and yl
ALL aboard! The sight-seeing bus,
Black Maria, is just leaving! Our
destination is to be the fair city of
Mymplouth where 99 44/100% of the
inhabitants are members of that unfor-
gettable class of 1936 from old Plym-
Step up, madam ! Take the seat in the
rear beside the buxom gentlemen with
the epileptic necktie and the nauseating
cigar. Here we go !
Ladies and gentlemen, I, Vincent
"Jelly" Baietti, am your guide, and our
bus driver is the eccentric Philip
Chandler, who never in his life has hit
anything but pedestrians.
Upon entering the city, the first build-
ing we notice is that in which the bowl-
ing alleys of Messieurs Poluzzi and Tav-
ares are located. Louis (I know him
personally) has discarded his famed
wooden toothpick for a platinum one
gayly encrusted with diamonds. Alvin
is futilely trying to explain the differ-
ence between a strike and a spare to a
few interested ladies : namely, Althea
Lewis, Lucy Mayo, and "Shorty-Dot"
Dunbar, who are desirous of learning
the fundamentals of this healthful pas-
There, standing in front of the build-
ing with his thumb in the air, and sur-
rounded by awed youngsters, is Robert
Volk, author of the "Hitch-hikers Com-
panion" and "87 Methods of Soliciting
Let us leave the bus and in a leisurely
fashion wander through the town and
its many buildings.
In a spotless white office, above the
alleys, we discover Dr. Dorothy Rogers,
leading feminine dentist, skillfully ex-
tracting bicuspids and eye-teeth from a
yawning mouth, the owner of which is
Charles Fraser, inventor of the cubical
polka dot, now employed by The George
Scagliarini Polka Dot Corporation.
When better dots are polkared, "Scag"
will polka them! In the waiting room
are Margaret Donovan, Mary Goddard,
Evelyn Schreiber, and Priscilla Roberts,
all featured in that new stage produc-
tion, "Dust on the Doorknob," written
by that ingenious author, Douglass
Armstrong. (Incidently, it is now play-
ing in Lawrence Goodwin's Opera
Up one flight more, we go into a
spacious gymnasium where Mario
"Spike" Garuti holds sway. Here the
tired business man may reduce a bay-
window to a mere skylight. In the
ranks I believe we see Bill Bagnell,
chairman of "The Wiser Wisecrack
Over on a mat is Ward Clarke,
world's heavyweight wrestling cham-
pion, casually tying knots and charlie-
horses in the legs of Daniel Tribou, who,
we must confess, is deeply engrossed in
a "Wild West Weekly."
Across from the gymnasium is the of-
fice of Francis Poirier, owner of the
Shaggy Nag Stables. We are ushered
into the outer offices by Jean Whiting,
his secretary. Behind us come tramping
Donald Hughes, Frederick Deacon,
Robert Hall, and Edward Brewster, all
stockholders in the Suffogansett Race
Track. They intend to build a race track
on Brown's Island in Plymouth.
Leaving this building, we journey to
an adjacent one. On the street floor is
the "Modiste Moderne" managed by
Thelma Ferioli and Pauline Viau. Vain-
ly trying to decide which hat to buy is
Miss Margaret Fox, assistant adviser on
the Adviser's Advice Council. In the
back room, Rosamond Harlow and Betty
Gardner are creating more ravishing
On the next floor is a door with a
mysterious - looking sign on it. No,
madam, it is not a Chinese Laundry.
That is the insignia of the Theta Phi Psi
Fraternity, to which belong those six
heroic gentlemen (?) who battled
through Trigonometry and Solid Geome-
try without a tear. Entering, we see
grouped around a televisor, munching
peanuts and Tootsie Rolls, Deane
Beytes, the human slide rule, Peter
Secondo, Fred Astaire's successor,
George Nickerson, noted critic, Frank
Neal, who recently translated "Anthony
Adverse" into pig-latin, Warren Brad-
ford, that little atomizer of gossip, and
George Campbell, world's champion pre-
Directly above the club room is Tele-
vision Station WPHS where Elizabeth
Ryan has just rendered Tony Tavernel-
li's latest hit, "Schenectady Scuttle," ac-
companied by Doris Pederzani's all-girl
orchestra. The owner of the voice an-
nouncing the next program is Richard
"Our next program will be the daily
cooking lesson by Thelma Garuti, presi-
dent of the 'Sisters of the Double-boiler
Organization.' Her article today will be
'How to construct a cake' and 'How to
Slaughter a Smoked Shoulder.' "
As we wish to see all the town and
must apportion our time, we are unable
to stay longer. Let us journey further
afield. On our way to the street, we pass
the "Woman's Get-together Club." Ad-
die Leland has just addressed the group
on "How to Shake a Salt Shaker." In
the interested audience we glimpse Alice
Banzi, Alice Hall, Amy Young, Sarah
Crowell, Kathryn V. Sampson, and
On the street again, we journey to the
backyard of the mayor, Harold Ray-
mond, where the Lam-Bor-Ghini Cine-
ma Studios are located. A new super-
thriller, "The Goon and the Gink," star-
ring Alton Whiting, Priscilla McCosh,
and Elsie Monti, has just been com-
pleted. Much praise is due the director,
our own Jacob Shwom, for such marvel-
Attracted by a buzz, we peer into a
corner of the studio where we see Ruth
Huntley, Mildred Lapham, Barbara
Neal, and Katherine T. Sampson indus-
triously ( ?) playing bridge during their
lunch hour here at the studio. Their
chief topic of conversation concerns that
book of the month "Dazed in the
Daisies" or "Asleep Under a Tulip" by
that most promising authoress, Alba
Martinelli. We see that that nationally
famed kibitzer, Connie Caldera, has just
wowed them with another of her ancient
Now, my friends, as it is time to eat,
we must adjourn to the "Tin Coffeepot"
owned by Evelyn Arruda and Alma
Gilli. We are greeted by Eleanor Drew,
hostess, who tells us the meal is on the
house. From the kitchen, we catch the
fragrant aroma of Albert Walton's
"Miscellaneous Soup" which contains
just what the name suggests.
Look ! Over there on the stool, busily
enveloping a hamburger, is Douglas
Tubbs, an industrious and Lochinvarian
young architect, who recently completed
the "Peter Peterson Community Cen-
ter" in Washington, D. C.
Ah ! Here's our soup, or are the
plates just wet? After a lovely repast
we depart for further investigation of
Sitting under an orange umbrella in
the civic center we find Joseph Ryan,
busily directing traffic. Janet Clark,
Katherine Christie, and Cynthia Oldhan
have just crashed head-on and caused a
terrific mixup. (Nice scenery, isn't it,
In the distance we hear the presses of
"The Funnell" owned and operated by
Florence Drew. Buying a copy of the
paper, we note that Chief Justice of the
Supreme Court, Alexander Barbieri and
his eight cronies, Donald Peterson,
Charles Barengo, Antonio Carvalho,
Prentiss Childs, Curtis Lowe, Ellis Gil-
man, Webster Moores, and Antone
Spalluzzi, have just declared that a tax
on flavored tooth paste is constitutional.
We also note that Eva Reggiani, the
famed fan-dancer, has just left for
Sweden to visit her mother.
We also note with pride that our own
"Red" Devitt has won the international
hog-calling contest. Some voice, that !
Now we shall again enter our dilapi-
dated omnibus to journey to the Dun-
ham Foundation Hospital where we
shall see the latest in diseases and op-
We are in luck. A patient is just be-
ing carried in on a stretcher. It appears
to be Gildo Govoni who, the driver says,
was pouring hair tonic on' his newly-
grown mustache when the bottle slip-
He is received by nurses Marion
Morey and Louise Ide, who quickly
usher him into the X-ray room. Doctors
Courtney and Zavalcofsky are inter-
rupted at their thrilling game of back-
gammon, but they willingly rush to
further maim and harass their patient.
Leaving the hospital, we pass to the as-
sembly hall, and, if we are quiet, we
may be able to peek in.
In the ranks of the alumnae nurses
who are witnessing a premier per-
formance of the new movie production
featuring the Scionne Sextuplets, we see
many old friends, Elizabeth Belcher,
Natalie Caldera, Mary Crescenza, and
Arlene Raymond in the front row, slyly
whispering to one another upon a mat-
ter of utmost importance (Arlene's new
hat, no doubt).
Over here we can see Louisa Gal-
lerani, Dorothy Govoni, Hilda Jesse,
Ella Lemius, Ruth Raymond, and Elinor
Sanderson brazenly playing "Tit-Tat-
Toe" on the back of Rose Sherman's
spotlessly white uniform. They are
brought to order by Professor Barbara
MacDonald who severely reprimands
Leaving the hospital, we reach the
center of town again in a surprisingly
short time. As we walk along the thor-
oughfare, smoke and the odor of singed
hair attract our attention. Very much
concerned, we search for the source.
Peeking into a beauty shop, we find it.
There in a chair is Marion Beauregard
heroically undergoing all the horrors of
a beauty treatment. Miss Edna Nicker-
son is doing the deed, at the same time
rapidly chatting with Ruth Valler, who
appears to have dropped in just for
a pow-wow and confab. Also, in the
shop are Dorothy Perkins, leading
sampler for the Taste-More Lollipop
Corp., Ethel Pimental, coloratura for
the Alexander Pearson Shoetree Corp.
Hour, Gertrudes Russell and Wood, two
exceedingly busy housewives, who, no
doubt, are in for the "Viola Petit Spec-
ial" temporary permanent.
Unaccustomed to such brutal sights,
we find it necessary to depart.
Now, let us again enter our convey-
ance and remain parked for a short
while. I shall point out to you any and
all personalities who chance to pass.
The couple approaching now is Mr.
and Mrs. Francis Phillips, big game
hunters. They have just returned from
an expedition to Mars where they suc-
ceeded in capturing a Martian Kluztok,
This group of ladies now drawing
near in very great haste must be going
to Frederick Wood's Bargain Basement.
From left to right, they are Francis
Harty, Wilma Hurle, and Jennie Maz-
zilli. There is a sale of guaranteed rio-
run stockings in Mr. Wood's basement.
(Wait until they find out they're made
of steel wool) .
Following close behind, we see Ger-
aldine Balboni, picking up the bundles
that Ellen Sampson has dropped after
attempting to recover them from Vir-
ginia Wood. (Excuse the girls; they
are trying to make the train that leaves
for Clark's Island in 2.5 min.).
Be careful ! These four faces now
passing belong to G-men. Sh! They
are owned by Robert Proffetti, Romeo
Santerre, Frank Silvia, and Edgar
Nickerson, respectively. They must be
working on a case. Hi ya, gents !
Here's Betty Boudrot, assistant nurse
to Dr. George Wood, veterinarian.
There are Martha and Daisy Hall who
do a sister act in the Henriette Huriaux
Hilarities. Well, well, there goes Burn-
ham Young, who succeeded in crossing
a bee with an eagle to secure a more
bountiful supply of honey.
Oliver Matinzi, the truant officer, just
whizzed past. I wonder who he's after
or vice versa?
There goes Sarah Clark, president of
the Housewives' Leisure Club, and a
few of her members : Jesse Callahan,
Dorothy Vandini, and Marjorie Cec-
carelli, with Marion Henderson and
Helen Michel bringing up the rear.
Here comes Marjorie Croft, famous
aviatrix. She just flew around the moon
in four months ! To whom is she talk-
ing? Oh, I know them, Arlene Dries
and Mildred Wright, two employees of
the "James Frazier's Korn - Killer
Approaching us now are Misses Dor-
othy Hamblin and Elsie Rezendes, in-
ventors of the fourth dimensional knit
and purl stitch.
There, coming out of Elizabeth
Vaughn's Delicatessen, are Gertrude
Simmons, world champion of the tennis
court, and Evelyn Strassel, the girl
who says "Thank you" before giving
you the wrong number on the Telephon-
Sakes alive and dead, too ! Look at
the time ! We have to mosey along.
And now, ladies and gentlemen, if you
will designate your destinations ... I
shall endeavor to deposit you upon your
respective doorsteps ....
Dashed off in a moment of clairvoy-
ancy and lunacy by
G. Campbell '36
OVERHEARD: CHOICE REMARKS
IN Chief's History Class: Spaghetti
grows on trees in Italy. (Who said
We ain't learned nuthin' yet in this
class! (When she read the proof, Mrs.
Raymond said it must have been in
I'm positive I passed the paper in
because I copied from the guy in front
It wasn't on when I took it off.
He who laughs first laughs last.
Don't make a mountain out of a mole.
Look at the air in the road !
Question: Who said, "Speak for
Answer: Benjamin Franklin.
Gee, those three guys make a nice
Do you mean to situate I said that?
By Luigi & Vincenzo
The Irish— "G-Men"
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Thoughts on the Advent of Commencement 1
I wandered in a land
Where all was sunshine and joy.
I lay down 'neath a shade tree
Where sleep o'ertook me and I dreamed.
A mountain rose before me.
On its sides, Youth was eagerly climbing.
'Twas the Hill of Success they were mounting
With the Temple of Faith at the top.
I saw one who was agile and eager
And left his companions behind.
He was Genius.
When Pleasure and Pride beckoned,
He lingered a while and his followers pushed on.
I saw another climber who made his way along.
He patiently moved each obstacle
While keeping his eye on the top.
He was Wisdom.
He resisted the call of the sirens,
While others forsook their paths
And were led away to the huts
Of Ignorance and the hovels of Misery.
I noticed one of these abductors
In her gentle, easy way, drawing
More deserters to her innumerable court.
She was Laziness.
As I watched this endless crusade, I thought,
"How happy are they who ascend to the top!"
A being appeared before me.
She looked at me, then spoke,
"Success may take thee to heights unknown,
But I alone can lead thee to Happiness.
I am Truth."
As I reached out to touch her, my slumber was
The sunshine was gone,
And the shadows of evening had descended
On that beautiful land.
Arlene Raymond '36
As one who, cast above a cataract,
Naught but a broken paddle for his guide,
Tries wildly, futilely, to reach the shore,
And failing, flings it far afield, to fall
Among a patch of goldenrod, while he
Shrinks down in his canoe and waits for death,
The roaring growing louder in his ears,
I gazed with trepidation on the road
Which wound ahead of me up rocky steeps
Impossible to scale without a guide.
"Alas," cried I, "how useless all the toil
And struggle of poor mortals bound to earth!
The way is tortuous, and my eyes are dimmed
From striving to see through the fog of life."
Then spake a voice from out the blue of heaven :
"Do not despair, O mortal, for the way
Is clear to those who put their trust in God!
He is thy guide, however steep the path
May seem to those who look for help in man!"
That is the lesson, Class of Thirty-six.
Believe not you can self-sufficient be —
Strive not for selfish gains and men's acclaim —
Seek to be guided on your way through life!
Thus only will you gain the goal you seek:
Thus only may you win divine reward!
Priscilla Roberts '36
I stood before a wondrous map
And meekly watched its Maker
Trace our course. He spoke,
And pointed to the highlands:
The Class of Nineteen Thirty-Six
Began here where a multitude —
Five score or more — of tiny streams
Came together in their course
To form an ever-widening river.
His finger followed down the course
As in my mind I saw the shoals,
The rapids we had safely passed.
Again the great One slowly spoke:
"Growing ever stronger, swifter,
You raced on toward a roaring torrent
Where all the smaller streams unite.
Each single unit here is lost:
While mingling with the others,
Your class, too, joins the common flood
To spread throughout the river."
I protested, ever hoping
My class would stay as one —
But from the map the Being turned
And calmed my fears by saying,
"Even if those waters once divided
Shall never flow alone again
And your classmates soon to be parted
Perhaps shall never meet again,
The cherished mem'ries of these years
Will live forevermore."
Elizabeth Belcher '36
THE SILENT MESSAGE
On a grassy knoll I lay and watched the clouds
Float silently across the blue expanse of sky;
Each seemed to know wherein his journey lay,
Intent, and questioning neither how nor why —
On softly-sandalled feet they moved, and fal-
As if each one were by its own ambition stirred
To heights of fame, here on this arching sky.
But, as I gazed, there rose a murmur in the
A hint of coming coolness everywhere,
And through the heaped-up clouds, the sun
Had disappeared, and sullen, burdened seemed
I must go, I thought; still I lingered there,
Content to glimpse anew each darkening cloud;
And while I dreamed, the sun, a golden proph-
Shone through the haze, to gild each one more
So, class of nineteen thirty-six, may we
Strive valiantly, by steadfast courage led,
Though strangely dark at times our way may
To persevere, nor fail to look ahead.
And through the years that God to us has given,
May we, inspired by higher, worthier things,
Not mourn the flight of passing time,
But toil, content, accepting what life brings.
Dorothy Perkins '36
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1 MOTION PICTURE REVIEW I
She Couldn't Take It
The Iron Duke
No More Ladies
Orchids To You
Public Hero No. 1
Here Comes The Band
Red Heads On Parade
Daddy Long Legs
Mutiny On The Bounty
Five Star Final
The Milky Way
Show Them No Mercy
The Perfect Gentleman
The Man Who Knew Too Much
When A Man's A Man
Little Man, What Now?
Here Comes Trouble
You May Be Next
The Singing Kid
Age of Indiscretion
The Big Broadcast
Breaker of Hearts
Broadway Melody of 1936
Crime and Punishment
We're Only Human
Pace That Kills
Your Uncle Dudley
The Good Fairy
The Great Impersonation
The Melody Lingers On
One Way Ticket
Shadow of Doubt
Our Little Girl
Forsaking All Others
The Gilded Lily
The Irish In Us
We're In The Money
Strike Me Pink
Way Down East
The Lady Consents
I Dream Too Much
Go Into Your Dance
The Daring Young Man
The Farmer Takes A Wife
The Flame Within
Goin' To Town
Goose and the Gander
Hold 'Em, Yale
This Is The Life
The Public Menace
Don't Bet On Blondes
Garuti, Gilman, Govoni, Goodwin
English IV Period IV
Rose, Sarah, Neal, M. Fox
No more homelessons
June (neuter gender)
High School days
Room 11 's assembly
Our Class Song
Pupil vs. Teacher
Our office girl
Getting all our points
After the treasurer's report
His graduation partner
For graduation clothes
Richard and Eleanor
Our football squad
Girls' Dressing Room
Arlene, Betty, Arlene
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LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT
Continued from Page 5
To Miss Dowling: A wheelbarrow in
which she may carry all her belongings
to the new school. If it is snowing,
however, she may send a requisition for
To Miss Johnson: A pair of cas-
tanets to prevent wear and tear from
snapping her fingers.
To Miss Rafter : A pair of shoes,
with cleated heels, to be used for exact-
ly the same purposes as usual. After
all, shoes do wear out.
To Miss Lang: An automatic "desk-
lifter-upper." We realize that it is ex-
tremely difficult and annoying to reach
down and get paper from those lower
To Miss Wilber: A Senior Latin
class whose ranks contain at least one
To Dr. Davis : A magnetic baton
which will attract the eyes of our
"music lovers" to prevent the embar-
rassment of a Senior's booming bass
voice cutting in upon a soprano solo.
To Mr. Romano : A bright red scooter
that he may police the study hall swiftly
To Mr. Packard : A class of budding
Edisons and Einsteins who will not
claim that an "ohm" is a dwelling place.
To Miss Carey : A rocket ship, that
she may spend her week-ends and va-
cations in France. We seek tofrembve
the unpleasantness of mal de mer.
To Mr. Knowlton : Our regret that
we did not meet him sooner, and our
sincere hope that he enjoys being with
To Mrs. Garvin: A hockey team just
half as good as our girls made it.
To Miss Jacques : A French class
with surnames that can easily be pro-
nounced in French. We know how awk-
ward it is to say "Monsieur" in flawless
French and the last name . . . not.
To Miss Coombs: A pair of winged
sandals and a Western Union uniform
in which to flit, appropriately garbed,
about the new school building on her
To the Class of 1937 : Our congratu-
lations, and, we confess, our poorly-
disguised envy since it is to be the
Senior class in the new school. (Oh,
well ! they'll see lots of us as "P. G.'s").
To the Class of 1938 : Our hope that
they can find enough outstanding per-
sonalities to serve as class officers.
To the Class of 1939: A Big Ben
(first it whispers, then it shouts), to
awaken them in the morning now that
their hours have changed.
Signed, sealed, and mailed with a
three-cent stamp from the luxuriously
furnished offices of Bulrushe, Bulrushe,
Bulrushe, and Weed, and to be executed
by whatever courageous soul deems it
Hereunto, whereunto, and whatunto,
we have affixed our signatures :
Alice the Goon
Jenny the Gink
Minnie the Tewt
Eugene the Jeep
Warren Bradford '36
Douglass Tubbs '36
UP AND ONWARD
Friends and classmates,
jj Up and onward! 3
= Toward the goal 1
1 That we pursue: i
9 Forward ever, 3
| Backward never* I
= Seek to make f
3 Our hearts more true. 3
| Bright the future
Gleams before us;
3 We have youth —
Life's greatest prize,
1 May its fervor
g Help to lead us, g
| Upioard, onward,
May we rise.
Friends and classmates,
= Up and onward! §.
□ Look not back g
To days gone by,
i Always forward
To the treasures g
| Which beside
Our path may lie.
e For the bright |
And not the dim,
g Let us keep S
Our lives unsullied
Till we chant
□ Our triumph hymn. S
| Friends and classmates,
5 Up and onward!
= One gate has §
Been closed behind:
5 There are others i
M Open to us, =
// we strive §
=. With heart and mind. =
= Shirking never, e
| Light illumines =
| Souls that climb
= Ever onward, =
e Till we conquer
= Sarah Clark '36 =
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I TRY THESE ON YOUR PIANO 1
Stay As Sweet As You Are
Easy Come, Easy Go
Whose Honey Are You?
Cling To Me
When I Grow Up
The Gentleman Obviously Doesn't Believe
Thanks A Million
Life Begins At Sweet Sixteen
At Your Service, Madame
I Can Wiggle My Ears
A Little Bit Independent
So Nice Seeing You Again
Cheer Leader Charlie
A Picture of Me Without You
Will I Ever Know?
I've Got to Get Hot
Love Is Just Around The Corner
What's Mine Is Yours
Calling All Cars
I Love Louisa
The Traffic Was Terrific
Got A Brand New Suit
Dancing With My Shadow
They Cut Down The Old Pine Tree
You're Driving Me Crazy
I'm A Dreamer
Hate To Talk About Myself
I Woke Up Too Soon
I Feel A Song Coming On
Going, Going, Gone
I Feel Like A Feather In The Breeze
Ten cents a week
For the diploma
Yeh? Where were we?
Back to Nature Colony on Clark's Island
An "A" on our report card
Says Cap to Phil
What was Feb. 19 (besides Poluzzi's birthday)
Before going into R. 10
So's prosperity, but we've never seen it
Rainy day at 12:30
Boys' cooking class
Or not at all, says Janet
Study hall teachers
Class of '36
. . . ! 25
Merchant of Venice
Tale of Two Cities
. . . | 26
Mutiny On The Bounty
Tale of Two Cities
. ..1 14
<■ • 1
Favorite Actor or Actress
. . . 1 28
. . .| 21
Katherine Hepburn ....
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insure est /u/ r ^ be/ . / > "* M e
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lj/,e*ce ' Ue r^jy '**?„
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FOR THE LOVE OF A LADY
TI/TANY deeds, wise and foolish, have
been done for the love of a lady.
How wise the Frenchman who remarked
"Cherchez la femme!" For always in
the background lurks the feminine in-
fluence — more often than we know she
has laid her mark on history, as you
We have often heard the story of
Ponce de Leon — so often, perhaps,
that its romance is dulled by repeti-
tion. But his story is really more ro-
mantic than one realizes, if only the
truth as it is told here were known.
For this is the tale of what sent him
on his quest.
Leon was a rather small town in
Spain, in those fifteenth-century days,
and Ponce was not an outstanding
figure in it. He had always lived
there, and while he took an occasional
part in its activities and, for a time,
lived a mildly exciting life with his
various bachelor contemporaries, he
was inclined to be self-effacing. He
was different from the rest. Especi-
ally was he fond of reading and
studying, even although education and
books were scarce. As the years passed,
and he grew older, he continued to
live by himself, surrounded by his
books. He was very fond of reading
Sir John de Mandeville's travels, and,
although these accounts were grossly
exaggerated, he spent many hours
pouring over the volumes and taking
imaginary voyages of his own. He
never married, and, as time passed, he
grew more and more content with his
manner of living.
However, as so often happens to men
of his type, as he neared fifty he had
the misfortune to fall in love with a
lady many years younger than himself.
Poor Ponce! The thought of her dis-
turbed his hours, waking and sleeping,
and, as the situation grew worse, he
had no rest. Her face came between
him and his book; her voice haunted
him night and day; in short, his whole
life was disturbed by her.
Finally he could endure the situation
no longer. One night, as was the cus-
tom, he engaged a musician to soften
the heart of the lady with seductive airs
and create the proper romantic atmos-
phere. Together they went to her court-
yard, and soon the plaintive strains of
a guitar filtered through the heavy scent
of mimosa which hung about her win-
dow. A slight figure appeared behind
the bars, and Ponce's heart suddenly
swelled. Surely, surely she must listen
to his suit and give answer.
He stepped from the shadow into the
moonlight and in low, impassioned
tones pleaded his cause. But alas!
When he had finished and stood with
lowered head awaiting her word, only
a light laugh sifted through the grating
which separated them.
"But no, Senor Ponce — you are too
old ! Go back to your musty books, and
leave love-making to those younger than
Oh, the cruelty of youth! Stooped
with sorrow, Ponce returned to his
lonesome abode and turned to his books
for solace. He opened a volume of
Mandeville's travels, and, scarcely real-
izing what he read, started to scan an
"Here lies Ind," he read, the familiar
words bringing comfort. "Diamonds
grow as large as oranges, and the people
are green and yellow."
Suddenly his eye was caught by a
tiny bit of lettering in one corner,
which had hitherto escaped him.
"Here lies the Fountain of Youth,
and men worship oxen."
Youth, the foremost wish of his
heart ! A fountain where he who drinks
is made young — if Mandeville had
found it, why could not he? Perhaps
he was a bit deranged by sorrow — who
knows? However, on the strength of
Mandeville's statement, his search
The rest of his story is history. We
all know of his long, futile search for
the fabulous fountain ; of the hardships
and heart-break he endured before he
died, at the end of one of his voyages,
a "weary and heartsick old man.
One wonders whether the cruel heart
of the lady were touched, or whether she
ever knew of the futile search to which
she had driven him. Truly, strange are
the ways of a lovesick man ! But Ponce
lives on, in history, as the explorer who
discovered Florida, and not as he really
was — only an incurable romanticist
with an unhappy heart — and all for
the love of a lady.
Priscilla Roberts '36
BARGAIN (?) MATINEE — 15c
r\ID you ever go to the movies on a
Friday afternoon with the hope of
thoroughly enjoying the pictures, only
to regret, as the afternoon wears on,
that you did not take a walk or stay at
home and listen to the radio? Most of
us have experienced this disappoint-
ment. It is not the pictures which cause
this discomfiture, but both the physical
and mental attitude of our neighbors.
Sitting back comfortably with visions
of keen entertainment, our attention is
suddenly and painfully withdrawn from
the screen by a thump or thumps on
the back. Leaning forward, we gradu-
ally recover our mental equilibrium suf-
ficiently to concentrate on the films. By
the time that our courage has returned
enough for us to ease back into our seat,
we hear the familiar "Rise, please," of
the usher. After responding reluctantly
to his courteous request, we once more
sit down and try to collect our thoughts
and belongings, upon which we discover
that the person next to us is comfort-
ably seated upon our coat sleeve. There
follows a period of indecision as to
whether we'd best try to retrieve it now
or wait for a more opportune moment.
We decide on the latter, and for a short
time all goes well. Becoming intensely
interested in the plot, the emotionally
inclined among us are nearly on the
verge of tears, when from out of the
vast darkness, comes a high falsetto
laugh followed by a series of loud guf-
faws. To add to this distraction, a small
child in the row in front of us makes it
plain to his mother and, incidentally, to
all within hearing distance, that he
wants to go home. Occasionally his wish
is granted, but more often, to our sor-
row, it is not. Suddenly it dawns on
him that there might be something of
interest in the unexplored region under
the seats. Forgetting him for a moment,
we are again reminded of his presence
by a muffled shriek, "I can't get out!"
Whereupon he is vigorously extricated,
and deposited in his seat by his irate
mother. There, to our great satisfac-
tion, he remains for the rest of the
To return to the picture, we find that
it is nearly finished. As the curtain
closes, pandemonium breaks loose. One
more bargain matinee is over ! What a
bargain ! Dorothy Perkins '36
I DREAMED A DREAM
I dreamed a dream:
And in that dream I saw —
A world of splendor
Of purple and gold,
Of light and beauty.
Beautiful jewels sparkled in a heavenly dome;
And people strolled along
And lived in perfect harmony.
I woke at dawn
And thought my dream untrue, incomprehensi-
And so I looked from my window, sighing,
And marvelled at the vision
Of the sun, surging upward on its journey —
Casting rays of purple and gold
Over the rolling hills.
And jewels scintillated from dew-dripped bowers.
A man passed by whistling —
Reveling in a world of beauty and peace.
I thought — why dream, when all about
God has given us beauty in Nature
Mildred Lapham '36
THE FATES WILL ATTEND
RESTLESS flashes ofl lightning glowed
in the sky and were quickly extin-
guished as if by some unknown hand. A
rising wind soughed through the trees
and sent leaves whispering along the
muddy road. The storm had momen-
tarily ceased, but gave warning of strik-
ing again with renewed vigor.
A horseman, his mount slipping and
sliding, came down the lonely lane, try-
ing vainly to urge his foam-covered
beast to a trot. A bolt of lightning
cracked with earsplitting violence close
at hand. The horse reared, his rider
shouted, and was pitched headlong to
earth. The rain came slashing down to
lash with derisive whips the cursing
man and the fast-disappearing mount.
James Clyde, stupidly picking him-
self up, futilely brushed wet mud from
his clothes. The wind, hurrying the
rain along, beat against his back to
arouse him from his stupor. Gathering
his cloak around him and recovering
his hat, he hunched himself against
the storm and set off down the road.
He had not gone far when water began
to trickle down his neck. Growling
and snarling, he clutched his cloak about
his neck and slithered on. A coy little
drop insinuated itself inside his boot.
Its companion followed and soon more
hastened to work for his discomfort.
Wet autumn leaves passed their slimy
fingers over his face, and branches
reached out to seize him.
Just like his brother to make a will
keeping him waiting for ten years to
inherit what was rightfully his, and
then insert a clause forcing him to claim
the house at midnight no later than
September 8, 1838. Well, soon he would
have no reason to regret this excursion.
If that sniveling lawyer got there on
time, James Clyde would soon be in a
dry bed, and what is more, a rich man.
What a time could be had with that
money ! A thousand parties like the one
last night, he promised himself.
In a concert of thunder and lightning
he arrived at a dripping iron gate. In
the weird illumination of the storm, he
saw the house against the sky. He shiv-
ered. The old place looked gloomy, like
a fitting rendezvous for the ghosts that
the village folk believed to inhabit it.
Tugging and pulling at the gate, the
new master of Clyde House struggled to
enter his domain. At last he wrenched
open the gate and in a fit of impatient
anger slammed it shut and viciously
kicked his inanimate tormentor. Def-
initely out of breath, Clyde climbed the
weed-grown drive to the house. The
place oppressed him, heavy with knowl-
edge and five centuries of combating
the elements. It seemed to squat pro-
tectingly over the surrounding land.
The bars that its neurotic, previous
owner had had placed over the windows
gave it a distasteful prison-aspect. He
reflected that James Clyde would have
to be careful or he might find himself
living in a prison ; but not for long, not
Mounting the steps, he hesitated be-
fore the heavy door. He shivered. What
might be behind it? He frowned at his
thoughts and muttered to himself,
"Don't be a fool, Jim, my boy. There's
nothing there that can harm you.
Ghosts make the very best caretakers."
Inserting the key and forcing the
rusty lock, he stepped into the house. A
rush of dusty, damp air slapped his face.
Heavy with the damp and neglect of
years, the house was not a pleasant
place. A gust of rain reminding him
that it was drier inside than out, he
entered and closed the door. Lighting a
candle that he took from his pocket, he
looked disgustedly about. He held the
candle up. Revealed in the unmerciful
light, his lined, red face and bloodshot
eyes told of a young man prematurely
old as the result of concentrated dissi-
Heavy layers of dust covered every-
thing. The house was just as it had
been when the body of his older brother
had been borne from it to the grave.
No one had had enough interest or
thoughtfulness to have the house pre-
pared after the disappointed heir had
rushed from his brother's funeral, as
drunk with the wine of new-found free-
dom as he was to be so many times on
more material spirits.
The room lay under the heavy dust
of years of waiting for life to come to it
once more. Once beautiful furniture
stood with mold on once-gleaming,
satin-smooth wood, and rot working in-
sidiously in beautiful brocade uphol-
stery. Cracked paintings, rotting tap-
estries, a small bronze draped in shroud-
like cobwebs — all evidences of the ma-
licious workings of time. This was the
reception room that Robert had lavished
so much money upon in order to sustain
the e'egance of the name of Clyde in its
country-wide glory. Here for two cen-
turies the Clydes had, on the first of
every month, met the neighborhood gen-
try. The family had owned the most
land and possessed the most influence
for so long that they were potential
kings in their own domain. This glory
of other times now hung in rags. James
had never taken up his duties as squire
with the small allowance from the in-
come the will allowed — and never would.
The room seemed to resent that; it hud-
dled sullenly in its shadows and very
reluctantly emerged as James's light
sought it out as he advanced.
Eddies of dust whirled vaguely after
the disturbing feet. Clyde walked to the
door that led into the hallway. He in-
tended to go to the dining room where
he would endeavor to build a fire, if
there were any wood there. This room
was too big, too full of memories. He
didn't like it.
The lightning flashed. A draught
blew out his candle. Silhouetted in the
open doorway down the hall stood a
menacing figure, arm uplifted. The
back of his scalp prickled and crawled.
Cold sweat beaded his brow. His breath
came with a painful, hoarse whistle.
The light faded. Blackness rushed
about him. He stood rooted with sud-
den, unreasoning terror that tore at
his sanity. The world stood still. Wa-
ter dripped from his cloak to his boots.
He could hear it drop. Cold and damp-
ness permeated him to the bone. At
any moment he expected that avenging
figure to rush at him from the darkness.
His mind groped for reason telling him
that this couldn't be true, — there were
no avenging spirits. But his heart and
soul screamed to him, "The spirit of
Robert demands retribution. You are
going to die — die foully as he did !"
Realization came to him that in the
very room in which he still stood, his
brother had met him for the first time
with the scales fallen from his eyes.
James remembered everything he had
striven to forget. He thought of him-
self at twenty-two, a spoiled young man,
pampered by an adoring, blind, older
brother who saw in him only what he
wished to see. Robert, weighted with
responsibility, much older than James,,
delighted in giving James the pleasures
that he never could have. Almost an
invalid, neurotic and fearing death, he
was suspicious and demanding of all
save the brother he worshipped. Not
even being sent down from Oxford with
scandal that was the current gossip at-
tached to him, persistent rumors of un-
savory nature, his reputation as the
gayest of young bucks, or enormous
debts, could shake Robert from his de-
lusions and dreams. He wanted James
to sow his wild oats and return to set-
tle down in the country with him.
When he had started to exert gentle
pressure on James to draw him from
his pleasures, the young man resented
it, drew back, and finally came into open
rebellion. James remembered that fight-
ing against gentle Robert was like
punching a feather pillow — he was soft,
easily hurt, but resilient. And then
finally Robert had left the country and
gone to London where he heard stories
that had made him gasp and come
hurrying back for James' denial — a
denial that couldn't be convincingly
given. In this room Robert had stormed
and threatened, pleaded and cajoled,
and under James' sullen science had
blazed into anger. James, his allowance
cut off, had stood and listened and seen
his soul stripped to its essential ugli-
ness by a disillusioned, maddened man
whose world had crumpled about his
ears, to leave only dust and ashes in his
mouth. And in James' resentful, hat-
ing eyes had glowed and finally blazed
Robert had not seen the terribleness
of his brother's passion, and in the fol-
lowing days had come to regard him as
a wayward lamb. But he never could
regain his old confidence and blind love
for the man for whom he had had such
hopes. And, unknown to James, he
changed his will. He could not keep the
money and lands from the rightful
heir, but he had the power to keep him
from squandering them, or so he
James had begun cold-bloodedly to
plot to kill his brother. The last vestige
of decency fell from him as he chafed
under the sameness of each succeeding
day and the absence of all that he had
possessed — things for which he would
sell his soul. And in the end he had
heard the doctor announce the death of
Robert, and knew that he had succeeded.
He had known unholy joy and mentally
blessed the poison that had given him
the power to regain freedom.
There had been no suspicion. Every-
one was delightfully gullible, for in their
minds such a deed as had been per-
petrated could not be conceived of in
one of the Clydes. James had rejoiced
— until the will was read after Robert's
Continued on Page 32
HuyeEW 'At I I HM
First Row: Audrey Dutton, Mary Bodell, Jean Whiting, Alba Martinelli, Elizabeth
Ryan, Priscilla McCosh.
Second Row: Elizabeth Belcher, Janet Clark, Lucy Mayo, Dorothy Perkins, Arlene
Third Row: Warren Bradford, Francis Schied, Alan Hey, Lois Brewster, Mrs.
First Row: Mrs. Raymond, Elizabeth Belcher, Alba Martinelli, Jean Whiting,
Dorothy Perkins, Priscilla McCosh, Margaret Fox, Arlene Dries.
Second Row: Vincent Baretti, Lucy Mayo, Pauline Viau, Deane Beytes, Lawrence
Goodwin, Katherine Christie, Dorothy Vandini.
Continued from Page 30
funeral. Then he had cursed and storm-
ed and threatened to break the will, but
he knew it was unbreakable, and it
made him wait ten years for the bulk of
the estate. And one of the clauses said
that he must meet the lawyer there or
the estate would pass to his cousin. It
named a generous sum that he would
possess if he managed the estates, and
a much smaller one that he would have
if he left. Robert had futilely tried to
bring James to his senses through his
weakness for comfort, luxury, and pres-
tige — to bring him solidity through
the years before trusting him with a
fortune. But he had calculated wrongly
and James had raged from the house to
the freedom and debauchery that held
him in their powerful grip. So he had
lived foil ten years, in debt most of the
time, dragging his name through filth,
anticipating the day when he would
avenge these years by squandering his
patrimony just as Robert had feared he
James' mind came back to the pres-
ent. He knew that it had been but sec-
onds that he stood there. Still he felt
years older. Another flash of lightning.
James sobbed with joy. It hadn't
moved ! Then, suddenly he began to
laugh hysterically. Tears of relief and
self-derision rolled down his cheeks. The
suit of armor ! He had seen it a thou-
sand times before and yet his over-
wrought brain had believed it an
avenging spirit. Ridiculous!
Fumbling in his pockets, he again
found a light for his candle and strode
down the hall to confront the suit of
armor. With a mace fastened to the
hand and the arm upraised, it looked
lifelike indeed. But a spirit. — Ha ! He
remembered that he had even thought
of having Robert die apparently by be-
ing accidentally struck down by the
mace. He jeered at himself, snorted
with disgust, and continued on his way.
Entering the dining room, he immed-
iately kindled a fire in the great fire-
place. A good blaze going, his accus-
tomed bravado again came to the fore.
James ripped open a cupboard door and
snatched a bottle of wine. Impatiently
knocking the top off on the table, he
raised the bottle to his lips and drank
After several drinks he felt himself
fit to battle the devil, so, dragging a
chair to the fireside, he sat down. Re-
plenishing the fire and drink occupied
him until midnight when his watch told
him that the lawyer was due. But Law-
yer Willows did not come. The minutes
dragged- James got up and began to
fling impatiently about the room. Still
no lawyer ! Wind and rain beat against
the windows and, when an occasional
heavier gust hurled itself against the
pane, James started, looked about, and
resumed his restless pacing.
A disturbing thought had come to
him. Could it be that Robert had sus-
pected him, that this seemingly foolish
test was a trap to betray him? He
could almost feel the noose tighten
around his neck. He gazed about like a
hunted animal, his shifting, red eyes
watching for anything suspicious.
There was a tapping at the window.
He glided quickly, silently to look out.
There was no one there. Tap, tap —
again. A shiver ran up his spine. Then
he saw the inquisitive limb that was the
culprit. As if in obliging confirmation,
it swayed once more and knocked. Mut-
tering and cursing, he resumed his pere-
A log fell in the fireplace, sending
gleaming sparks up the chimney. Wa-
ter dripped on the window-sill outside.
He could hear his vdatch above the
crackle of the fire.
And then, looking up, he saw his
brother's accusing eyes menacing him.
He told himself savagely that it was
only a portrait. It couldn't harm him —
he was flesh and blood; he could de-
stroy that canvas if he pleased. But
when he moved, the eyes seemed to fol-
low him — accusing — reproaching —
wistful — angry — menacing. Robert's
eyes begged him again to say it wasn't
He could endure it no longer. Mad-
ly he tore the portrait from the wall
and cast it into the fire. It blazed up.
But Robert's eyes were the last part
to be consumed by the hungry fire. They
seemed to reproach him even from the
The house suddenly became unendur-
able to James. The walls seemed to
close in on him, the very chairs seemed
hostile. The atmosphere of the room
choked him. A horrible shriek came
from the chimney, something came
swooping down it. His brain flamed
— something snapped inside him! He
rushed from the room, gasping sobs
of terror — something was chasing
him ! As he stumbled over the thres-
hold past the armor, he was hit
a stunning blow on the back of his
head. Dazed, a little trickle of blood
coursing down his neck, his mind was
filled with the thought of assassins,
spirits, the thought of his brother —
something had attacked him — had de-
sired his life!
He flung the door open and its crash
behind him gave added impetus to his
headlong flight. He reached the gate.
He wrenched at it. It did not open.
In mad rage and terror he tore and
clawed at it, but it would not yield. He
looked over his shoulder. Shadows ad-
vanced on the path. They assumed
ghostlike forms. With a shuddering,
sobbing scream he gave one last tearing
wrench — in vain! He collapsed on the
gate and hung there.
The wind made his cape flutter and
sway, ruffled his hair. The rain stream-
ed down his face. He didn't feel it. He
would never feel it.
In the house a bewildered owl wad-
dled about the room, blinking and pro-
testing his precipitate journey down
the chimney. The embers of the dying
fire painted the room a dull bloody
red that gleamed and ran as the
fire flickered. The owl stalked from
the room, passed the still-swinging
mace, and flew out the door. The
rain beat in. The wind slowly swung
shut the door. With the click of the
latch, the house relaxed, resumed its
impregnable, indomitable watch — sat
gazing inscrutably down on the thing
hanging so limply on the gate.
In the peace of the new morning a
shocked farmer beheld the blood-chilling
sight of a man, his face horribly con-
torted, grimacing from the gate of
Clyde House, staring starkly at some-
thing too horrible for sight.
Lawyer Willows and the doctor iden-
tified the body. The doctor had remark-
ed pensively, "As I have said, the blow
on his head, as yet unaccounted for,
could not cause death, so he must have
received some shock that was too much
for his over-strained heart." He looked
at the terror-stamped features of the
body at his feet and shuddered uncom-
fortably. He muttered to himself,
"From the look on his face, I should say
he died from sheer, stark fear!"
"It will always be a mystery to me,"
Willows grumbled to the doctor, "why
that madman had to come and die of
heart failure in the place he seems to
have deemed unworthy of his attentions.
Anyway, the estate passed to his cousin
night before last when James Clyde was
spending the time in which he was to
claim his inheritance in a drunken orgy
with his friends !"
Phyllis Johnson '37
THE LITTLE PEOPLE
The sweet wind
Kissed by banshee lips
Softly sighs through the thatch.
In the low hush
Of the night,
I can hear their voices
Clear in the stillness,
And they lull me to sleep,
The Little People —
They whisper in my ear and lull me to sleep.
In the yellow of the day
Where are they?
They are the sparkle of the sunbeam
That streams slantingly through the panes
On my morning porridge.
They hide in the deep thatch
Of the roof,
And tickle the feet of the swallows.
They twist and curl the thin smoke
From Grandpa's pipe,
And they polish all the silver in his hair.
Mary Bodell '37
O sweet music,
Why mystic power have you
That by one peaceful strain
You can lift our souls
From despair's darkest depths.
From those cruel clutches
Of that pulsing arm of pain?
You are a sweet release
From the bondage of suffering!
You are full of comfort
To the aching heart!
But why do you sweep us
From the heights of ecstacy
With your heart-rending tones
And your wild moaning?
Tragedy o'ertakes us and we are sad;
The chrysalis of our soul is torn
And grief seeps through.
Music may show us
Hate, sorrow, love, or joy
In a few throbbing strains.
Elizabeth Vaughan '36
Azure sky, blue and fair;
Shrilling wind, bleak and bare;
Frozen earth, hard and dry;
Melting snow, piled up high;
Quiet brook, choked and still;
Muddy leaves dead and chill;
Ghost-like trees, black and cold;
Rising sun, bright and bold;
c'"!imniiiiit] i nniimiminmiiimmciiiiiimiiiiniiiiiiiiiiiicjiiiiiiiiiiiiniiiimiiiiiniiiiiiiiminiiiimiimt^iiiiiiiiiniM
Sophomore Poetry Page
MY CATALOGUE OF LOVELY THINGS
A morn in spring when the dew-drops cling
To the boughs of the waking trees;
When the birdies sing from a tree-top swing
Which rocks lightly in the breeze;
A pine tree tall near a waterfall,
Roaring ceaselessly through the night;
A sea-gull's call before a squall,
Which catches it in full flight;
A bluebird's wings; cold, bubbling springs,
This is my list of loveliest things.
MY CATALOGUE OF LOVELY THINGS |
A winding road through towering mountains |
A rumbling, tumbling waterfall,
A beautiful park and sparkling fountains,
A tree in winter or summer or fall.
The woods and their fragrant smells,
The sky with all its phases and changes,
An ivy-covered church with its ringing bells, |
The sea with all its moods and dangers;
A river flowing solemnly on to the sea, =
A quiet nook near a warm Are,
A book that interests and pleases me, =
And music from flute, violin, or lyre, =
This is my catalogue of lovely things. |
Arnold Torrance 3
Variations On A Theme
LIFE'S LOVELY THINGS
MY CATALOGUE LOVELY THINGS =
My idea of life's lovely things
Is neither wealth nor treasure of kings.
A lonely pine upon a hill,
A brave but battered sentinel;
A tiny golden butterfly,
Poised on a flower, wings lifted high;
A mother robin with her brood,
Her happy mate asearch for food;
An angry, roaring, surging ocean,
With spray afly, and wind in motion;
A field of daisies, fresh and white,
Wet with the dew of a summer's night;
Tis God's own works, both great and small,
That are the loveliest things of all.
The lilting sweetness of the tune
The thrushes in the springtime croon,
The gentle rustling of the leaves
Caused by breezes through the trees,
The pitter-patter of the rain
As it falls on my window-pane,
A field of daisies in the sun
Nodding their heads till day is done,
A happy, bubbling little brook
Scurrying to some secluded nook,
The mellow strains of a guitar
Sounding at twilight from afar,
This is my catalogue of lovely things:
And great is the joy to me it brings.
.-cjiiiiiiiiiiiujiiiiiii n iiiinnmniimiin Milium n i niiiiiiiiiinu uiiiiiiiiiiiiniiiiiiiiiiiiuiiiiiiiiiiioiiiiiiiiiioiiiimiiioiiiiiimiiu ci"
MONEY IS AS MONEY DOES
OUNRISE always has been one of Na-
^ ture's better gifts to man. After the
dark reign of night, a bold sun comes
up from behind a hill or a clump of
trees to start a new day. It chases away
the fears that may have been born dur-
ing darkness and makes the gloomiest
and weariest creature hopeful and ex-
pectant. It sweeps away troubles the
way a broom sweeps away a cobweb.
Troubles, like cobwebs, appear again,
but temporarily there is happiness in
The break of day in Townsville was
as lovely as usual. A great naming ball
appearing in a pink and golden sky
banished a few fluffy clouds. Workers
who set out at an early hour took a deep
breath of the invigorating air. It was
fortunate, indeed, to be alive on such
a day as this.
A figure appearing on the crest of
the hill behind which the fiery ball was
becoming visible was unobservant. Bent
and weighed down by the implement
with which he made a living, "Old Joe"
made a grotesque silhouette against the
now blazing sky. He had travelled along
this same road at the same hour for a
number of years, but he had never
noticed the dawn. With his head bent
down, he saw only stones and dust, his
eyes blind to the beauty about him. Per-
haps his attitude toward life might
have been different, for often a gorge-
ous vision makes one resolve to try to
beautify a drab world.
Since he had been journeying to
Townsville for a number of years, he
was well known. His "Have you any
scissors to sharpen today?" was famil-
iar to all as he trudged slowly through
the streets, his bell making a mournful
sound. Once it had seemed to challenge
the world, so loud and persistent it had
been. Now it seemed resigned to its
fate as was its master.
"Old Joe" was thinking what he had
thought through the years as he ap-
proached his destination :
"Another day has begun. My back is
broken but I must keep on. My pile of
money must increase, not diminish. My
money ! My own money ! All mine !
No one else can have it. I want it all
and more. There is more and I can get
it. The Whites, Smiths, and Vandykes
want scissors sharpened today. Maybe
axes, too. Yes, I can get more, more
money. That's what I want."
Busy thus with his planning and
scheming, he did not hear the rumble
of a powerful motor. As his desires for
wealth shut out unselfish deeds, they shut
out the warning of approaching death.
How could "Old Joe" know that in the
black speck that was rapidly nearing
was a fugitive who had stolen money?
How could he know that a victim of the
desire for riches was racing toward
him? The young man driving the flash-
ing vehicle was desperately thinking :
"I'll get away! I must! Nothing
shall stop me! Nothing. I don't care
who or what it is. I'll get free. I
won't be caught. It's impossible. I
won't let anyone get me. Not me. No
cop is gonna get hold of me. Over my
dead body he will. This bus oughta
go faster. I'll soon find out. It sure
does go. Now we'll see."
Thus two beings meditated, two who
were to ruin each other's plans.
As the car hastened toward the
turned figure, no one was near to warn
the misguided man.
Meeting the obstacle in its path, the
car teetered for a minute or two on two
spinning wheels and then, as though
having made up its mind, tipped to one
side and hit a tree which offered wel-
come shade during the hot summer
days. In this way, two men who want-
ed wealth, met death.
Elsie Monti '36
THE BLACK PLAGUE
Heaps of corpses, stinking piles
Of rotten flesh and clotted blood:
Decaying mounds of sun-scorched dead —
The very atmosphere breathes death.
Human food for rats and flies,
That swarm around and land
To feed on choicest morsels
From the "Grim Reaper's" butcher shop.
Bodies blackened by the plague
Are carried in the dead of night,
And dumped like garbage into pits
To swell the rising hill of dead.
Norman Jones '37
'"S>ru<f Phillips W'mcVliU '4
dye for a ducV.r,^
D. Tubbs '36
A. Barbieri '36
NOTHING VENTURED — NOTHING
A GREAT deal of satisfaction is to be
derived from any accomplishment;
the more difficult the problem, the deeper
the sense of pride we secretly feel. If
we were to employ someone to mow our
lawn, we should naturally expect him to
work for us — and work faithfully un-
til the job was finished. Then we would
feel obligated to pay him. But do we
realize that every day of our lives we
are working for ourselves? More valu-
able by far than money is our reward;
we either lower ourselves or rise a little
each day. Our employers are ourselves,
and we often expect too much with little
effort from those employers. Why do
we feel that, when working for our-
selves, if we fall a little short it will not
We are told that, from our labors, we
get back exactly what we put into them.
There is a simple formula in physics
which applies to all machinery and, al-
though we do not realize it, has a direct
bearing on human machinery. It is this:
output equals input. That is, the work
accomplished is proportional to the
effort expended. However this formula
is only theoretical, applying to machines
of one hundred percent efficiency, and
such a machine, mechanical or human,
has never been produced. Frictions of
many sorts cause resistances which
hinder the smoothness of the machine
until the output equals only a fraction
of the input. Likewise only a part of
the work we do for ourselves is realized ;
only a portion of our labors will be
rewarded. Therefore, to get ahead we
must do a little more than we are ex-
pected to do in order to keep our stand-
ard as high as we would have it !
While we are working for others —
working to gain money, striving to
become more independent, we are
broadening our vision, learning new
things, adapting ourselves to new situ-
ations. According to the manner in
which we meet our rising problems, we
are either working for ourselves or
against ourselves. Little do we realize
that the narrow, hypocritical people we
often find around us once faced the
question — to work for themselves or
against themselves. Alas! they started
out on the wrong foot. Most of them
are still where they began. Now the
problem is ours let us begin right and
work for ourselves.
Jean Whiting '36
ONE August morning I awoke with a
wonderful glad-to-be-alive feeling
inside. My dad and I were spending two
whole weeks with my aunt and uncle in
New York City. It was a glorious, sun-
ny day, and that night I was going to
a place I'd always heard of and wanted
to see, Coney Island. Why shouldn't I
For a five-cent fare the subway took
us for what seemed to me an amazingly
great distance. As we left the subway
and walked down a midway on the
Island, I felt as if I were in a fairy
land come true. Hundreds of lights
flashed and sparkled and twinkled all
around us. The sound of harsh, nasal
voices filled the air with invitations to
"walk right up and see the only living
two-headed woman" and to "step right
up and witness the greatest acrobatic
show on earth."
Dad and I began by purchasing a
strip of tickets for the first amusement
park we came to. We rode on ferris
wheels, whips, magic carpets, wobbling
barrels, and roller coasters.
One thing that I shall never forget is
our ride on what was called the
"Horses." At the top of a flight of
stairs were several horses similar to
those on merry-go-rounds. Each horse
was attached to a single track which
went down a steep grade at first, and
then up a hill on tracks like those of a
roller coaster. The ride was more
thrilling than a roller coaster, for we
had to sit on the horse's back with
nothing to hold on to except the reins.
After we once got started, everyone
wrapped his arms around the horse's
neck because this gave him a much safer
feeling. After the ride was over, we
found that the only way by which we
could get outside into the main park
again was by going through a door be-
side which a clown was standing and
grinning at us. On crossing the thres-
hold, I found myself on a large stage,
and staring up at me was an audience
of at least three hundred people! I
gazed at them, spellbound for a min-
ute, and then hurried toward the door
leading- off the stage. In the middle of
the stage a gust of wind blew my skirt
up suddenly, and when I quickly bent
over to hold it down, my hat blew off.
As soon as I reached for my hat, up
went my skirt again. Finally I let my
hat blow away and rushed off the stage
amidst the laughter of the audience.
After that, Dad and I went down and
became part of the audience. It was
extremely amusing to watch others go
through the same process I had.
When I was back in bed late that
night, I thought over everything that
we had done and decided that, if any
home were in New York, I would make
it a point to visit Coney Island every
Muriel Priestley '38
SPRINGFIELD was one of the cities
unfortunate enough to have been
inundated by the recent floods. It was
my good fortune to have been able to see
the destruction in this catastrophe.
When we first entered the city, we
found ourselves in a serious position.
We had come two hundred miles for
the sole purpose of seeing the flood and
then only to find we could not enter
the city through the lines of militia.
Our luck was with us, though, as it had
been all day. We thumbed a ride on a
bread truck going into Springfield. It
was carrying an emergency load of
bread for the refugees so it was allowed
to pass. The driver sympathized with
us and hid us in the back with the load.
Almost suffocated by the odor of the
bread, we were left within the city
limits. The city was in complete dark-
ness in the flood area, and the only
means of getting about was by flash-
light or automobile lights. In the dark-
ness we almost walked into the water
which was flooding the lower streets.
Tired and sleepy, we sat on a doorstep
and listened to the conversation of the
people who had been driven from their
homes. Every so often we would hear a
child ask for water, but the mother
would refuse because of the lack of un-
contaminated water in that district. As
we rested, up to the curbing floated a
boat from which naval reserve officers
disembarked and told us to move on.
We moved up the block and were about
to rest again when a military patrol
came to the street and told us to keep
moving. In despair we decided to see
In the business district gasoline
trucks, pumps, and other pieces of ma-
chinery were being used to pump the
water from the department store cellars
and apartment buildings. The res-
taurants that could do business were us-
ing candles and gas light. All around
were groups of people talking of the
damage to their homes. In spite of the
flood, though, everyone was cheerful
and few grumbled at their bad fortune.
The Red Cross had in its service
private cars which were carrying sick
refugees to the base. The organization
was doing a splendid job of caring for
the homeless people. It had received a
grant of land and a large mansion from
the will of an old man who had died re-
cently. Here an electric light system
had been installed and people were
being cared for night and day.
At the time we decided we needed
some sleep and planned a campaign to
get bed and lodging. Wo found readily
enough that none was to be had. Re-
membering a cemetery which we had
passed, we determined that, as a last
resort, we would spend the rest of the
night there. We used the last resort.
At about three o'clock in the morning
we found it necessary to leave the vi-
cinity of our friendly haven to reach
drier territory because of the fine rain
that had started to fall. We passed out
through the cemetery gate and into the
arms of officers in a patrol car. We were
soon challenged and were asked our
names, ages, homes, and reasons for be-
ing there. Satisfying their curiosity,
we were told to go to the Red Cross base
and get a cup of coffee. We informed
them haughtily that we had money, but
asked if they would be so kind as to
give us a pass through the lines in order
that we might take photographs. They
were pleasant enough about it and soon
we were oil our way in the direction of
the friendly lights of a hot-dog stand.
We managed to consume an hour over
two cups of coffee and hamburgers.
Upon our departure we managed to
spend the remaining hours before day-
light answering the questions of patro 1
officers and flashing our pass. Morn-
ing broke cold and bleak and dashed our
hoped of ever getting pictures. But
with determination we entered the area
and, to our amazement, found wooden
street blocks floating on the surface of
the water, dories and motorboats drawn
up in the streets, garbage and refuse
on the sidewalks, and all manner of
household goods floating about on the
surface. Sodden people stood discon-
solate, looking to see whether their
houses were floating as yet. One man
shoved off in a canoe and paddled out
to his home. Unlocking the door, he
drifted inside to the stairs and went up
to inspect the interior. Exhibiting hu-
mor, he went over to the radiator and
felt of it.
"Hmm," he said, "I wonder what's
wrong with the furnace. The radiators
are stone cold."
Leaving that street, we went to an-
other and found the rain slowly wash-
ing away the blood of two young men
who had been shot that night for loot-
ing. A small group of people had gath-
What had once been streets was only
water, marked by No Parking signs and
trees. Climbing a hill, we could over-
look the whole area. It was three miles
across to the other side, and innumer-
able houses, garages, trees, and debris
floated along off to one side of the Con-
necticut River. The real position of the
river could be defined by the humping
up of one section of the area about two
feet above the rest. Tops of trees looked
like bushes sticking out of the water.
We could see no bridges, but we learned
that, shortly after we left the place, a
great covered bridge, the last crossing
of the river at the section, had floated
The night we arrived the water had
fallen two feet, but now the increasing
rain had caused it to rise again and,
before we left, it had gained all it had
lost. Also, because of the increase in
looting, the guard was increased and
it became more difficult than ever to
get about under the eyes of the sleepy,
surly guardsmen and marines.
Disgusted at our inability to take pic-
tures of the amazing work of nature,
we decided to leave the city. Feeling
sympathetic with the sufferers and
heartsore at the loss of such valuable
property, we slowly tramped out of the
city and started to thumb for home.
Many were the strange scenes that
we witnessed. In many places there
were signs indicating that milk and
bread had just arrived and were ready
to be sold. Flood sufferers were walk-
ing about in clothes sometimes too large
for them and as often too small. Thene
were youthful National Guardsmen ap-
proaching large groups of men and,
with chest out and chin high, holding
a rifle and saying, "Move along, you
guys. You're not supposed to stand in
According to the sages it was the
worst flood in sixty years, so we don't
believe we did much wrong in using two
days of our valuable ( ?) time to see
something that might not happen again
in sixty years.
But we were glad to leave that pain-
ridden city because we did not get dry
again until we reached the friendly city
It's good to have a dry, warm home.
George Nickerson '36
SPRING IN ENGLAND
ENGLAND in the spring! The fra-
grant odor of beautiful primroses
and bluebells mingled with the fresh
woodland scent. A cloudless, blue sky
smiled gaily down on one of nature's
perfect days. Seeming actually to be
smiling with the day, deer peeped from
behind the trees that lined the drive-
way. The trees with their newly-
awakening buds fluttered gently in the
slight breeze, and rabbits scampered
across the drive.
This was the scene we saw as we mo-
tored up the winding, tree-arched road-
day which led to the manor. As we
turned a corner, the sun fell, gleaming,
on a typical English house. High tur-
rets rose from behind low ells and hid-
den nooks. The massive stateliness was
somewhat overshadowed by a certain
homelike quality. Stretching to the sides
were spacious lawns, with laughing,
talking people sitting at ease on the
lounging chairs or flung carelessly on
While we stood watching this pleas-
ant scene, a tall, fair-haired man de-
tached himself from a group of people
and came forward with outstretched
hands. He was pure Anglo-Saxon ;
flaxen-haired, blue-eyed: the perfect
English squire. Alert, courteous, and
generous, he made us feel as if every-
thing he had were ours, and yet we
knew that he was not easily fooled.
Entering the house, we saw a wide
hallway with portraits lining its dark
walls ; portraits of ancestors to be proud
of — and otherwise. The rooms were all
lofty and high-ceilinged. But they all
looked comfortable and slightly shabby,
as if they had been lived in, and were
not just to be looked at.
This was the perfect setting for a
Marion Treglown '39
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THE HOUSE OF MEMORIES |
It was an old and rambling home,
A place where spiders loved to roam,
The cobwebs spread like fairy veils, ;;
And seemed to hold mysterious tales.
To look at it, one would not know
That people dwelt here long ago:
Young boys and girls who played and sang
While walls and rafters loudly rang.
The ladies, graceful, shy, and fair,
Were dressed with elegance and care,
With lovely hair piled row on row,
And pretty curls that set below.
There's nothing left but memories now, |
So, rambling house, just take your bow,
And thankful be that you possess
Memories gay and old and blessed. §
Harriet Longhi '39 §
SONG OF THE SEASONS
On winter days
The snow is white,
The sky is dark,
The cold winds bite.
On a spring day
The sky is blue,
The ground is wet,
Buds burst anew.
'Neath summer skies
The grass is green,
And the gay brooks
Clear mirrors seem.
The leaves are brown,
The sky is gray,
The winds blow free
On an autumn day.
Burton A. Burgess '39
He walks around, head in the air,
While dreaming of a lady fair:
Her golden curls in a huge pink bow
Dance 'fore his eyes in a bright halo:
Her sparkling eyes are like twinkling stars,
For in his dreamy state nothing mars
Her beauty, though she's only three.
And he with springing steps so free
Struts to the village candy store
To buy some sweets to leave at her door.
He never loved a playmate more, —
Though she is three, and he is four.
Anne Beaman '39
| J 'lo Ii iJ |
i CJOTJJ J I %
1 v/ ) j ,THE FAIRIES' AEROPLANES
I The fairies, too, have aeroplanes §
| To carry them about, • =
| That soar and swoop and dart and dip,
= And circle in and out. =
| The fairies' aeroplanes are safe
5 And never can capsize: |
| How beautiful they are and gay, —
Because they're butterflies!
^ By Laura MacLean '39 |
Red skirts swirling,
Gay scarfs twirling,
Dusky shapes whirling
To the strum of guitars.
'Neath the twinkling stars.
Soft breeze blowing,
Bright torches glowing
Through the old willow trees.
Dark eyes glancing,
Graceful forms dancing
By the glistening seas.
Betty Coleman '39
Jet black sky
no clouds in sight,
Warm, soft wind
comes drifting by,
that prick the sky,
as soft as snow,
in the world below,
her search for prey,
haste from her way!
Constance Kellen '39
THE IRONY OF FATE
MR. STAMWYCK, a bachelor in the
middle thirties, loved the solitude of
country life. Immigrating to America in
1837, he built himself a small farm in
the fertile valley of the Pemigewasset
River in New Hampshire. Stamwyck
was a short, plump man boasting a
jolly, red face, bushy, walnut hair and
mustache, and a pair of rough, brown,
toil-hardened hands. He wore a bat-
tered, old, straw hat, faded blue shirt
and overalls, and a pair of sturdy shoes.
His habits being few and simple, he led
an easy contented life, living on what
he raised and having very little com-
munication with the outside world.
The only thing that broke the tran-
quillity of Mr. Stamwyck's happy life
was the unreasoning fear that he had
of all snakes, however small or harm-
less they might be.
One evening he was awakened by a
low, distant, rumbling sound. Sitting
up in bed, he gazed around, but being
still dazed by the effects of a few hours
sleep, he thought the noise was thunder,
rolled over upon his other side, and
promptly went to sleep.
Again he awoke, but this time with
a start, to find that his house was shak-
ing and that the rumbling sound had
increased in volume to an ominous roar.
Placing an old bathrobe over his shoul-
ders and sliding his bare feet into a
pair of worn slippers, he sauntered over
to a window which overlooked the river.
He stopped short, gasped in amazement,
took two steps backwards, closed his
eyes, looked again, and then shook him-
self to make sure he was not dreaming.
It was true! The waters of the river
had overflowed its banks, and the once
peaceful Pemigewasset had been trans-
formed into a raging, roaring demon
which was at this moment rapidly
approaching his front doorstep. Ex-
cited and bewildered, he dressed, raced
out into the night to his barns, freed
his stock and poultry, then raced back
again into the house.
The rising flood waters had by this
time almost reached the top of the
kitchen stove. Therefore he was forced
upstairs. In his excitement Stamwyck
Continued on Page 43
THE MODERN GIRL
(With apologies to John Greenleaf Whittier)
Fie upon thee modern girl,
With thy "permanented" curl,
Flapping trousers, mannish shirts,
(Girls today care not for skirts.)
With thy red lips, reddened more
From thy lipstick's ruddy store:
Two thin lines upon thy face
Of each eyebrow show a trace.
Princess, thou dost have thy way —
No one ever says thee nay.
Oh, for girls of olden days
With their sweet and gentle ways!
Love for parents, home, and schools,
Never thought of breaking, rules.
Girlish faces, sweet, and fair,
Modest clothes and natural hair.
Modest manners, npthing "wise,"
Gentle tones and downcast eyes.
Olden girls all hearts have won,
Fie upon thee, modern one.
Margery Croft '36
I must go up to my hill again,
Where the fleecy clouds roll by;
And all I ask is a strong wind,
To blow my kite on high.
And Patch, my dog, with his wet, red tongue
And his comical, speckled face
Will climb with me to the hill-top
And gaze with me into space.
This dog of mine, which is spotted brown,
Will with me lie content:
For here our troubles all vanish soon,
And joys are not soon spent.
I love the hills, which are rich and green,
And the blue sky necked with white,
I love my dog — that is ever true,
As o'er me sails my kite.
AN IMPENDING BATTLE
The ship glides forward
Straight toward the foe.
The captain many times
Has met this enemy — and won;
Yet, on the bridge,
His brow is anxious.
Toward the ship it comes,
With cold indifference.
Dauntless, the damp, white folds
Enshoud the ship —
The Battle is on!
The ship has everything to lose,
The fog — nothing.
Burnham Young '36
GIRLS' GLEE CLUB
First Row: A. Dutton, I. Albertini, A. Riley, E. Lee, R. Wood, A. Dries, B. Boudrot.
Second Roio: M. Tracey, J. Pearson, A. Martinelli, D. Ziegengeist, T. Cook,
Third Row: B. Bernier, A. Leland, C. Handy, S. Clark, P. Roberts, E. Ryan.
Fourth Row: Dr. Davis, H. Belcher, A. Lewis, R. Butts, M. Wright, R. Sherman.
BOYS' GLEE CLUB
First Row: C. Moores, V. Kirkey, W. Clarke, W. Cohen, R. Holmes, W. Moores.
Second Row: R. Cleveland, Dr. Davis, S. Addyman, E. Wright, D. Tubbs, W.
Continued from Page 41
rummaged here and there, picking up
and then dropping articles which he
might save. By this time the water
was swiftly climbing the stairway.
Seizing a sheet, he filled it with
clothing and tried to tie its ends to-
gether. But the flimsy material tore
and its contents splashed into the ever-
rising, swirling waters.
The river had climbed to the second
Finally and reluctantly abandoning
his home, Stamwyck mounted a window-
sill and dived out into the maddened
waters. Suddenly, while swimming, a
cold, clammy sweat broke out on his
forehead and a chill raced up and down
his spinal column. The fear of snakes
overtook him at this critical moment.
He shuddered and cringed with every
stroke as he imagined that he felt a
cold, wet body slipping through his
thrashing legs. Frantically he headed
for a hill, the top of which reached
above the flood waters a little way
ahead of him.
Then it happened ! There it was ! A
black, shiny, hideous snake with wicked,
bobbing head darted toward him. Like
a man who has become paralyzed, he
became numb, his limbs ceased to func-
tion, and he started to sink. Then the
the poor man, realizing where he was,
frantically struck out anew. Try as
he could, he was not able to outdo that
oncoming, deadly menace behind him,
for it gradually came closer and closer.
At last what self-control he possessed
gave way. Madly he screeched, dived,
and tried to dodge, but the sleek snake
drew nearer to him. Stamwyck's eyes
bulged and rolled in terror. The snake
was now slipping over his legs and ap-
proaching the back of his neck.
This was more than he could endure.
With fear paralyzing his limbs he
ceased to swim. He gasped, the world
turned black before his eyes, and then
the thing he most feared happened.
The snake touched his neck, slithered
down the collar of his loose shirt, and
he knew no more.
Later he was found by a rescue party,
dead. Before they covered him with a
blanket, they pulled from the back of
his neck a crooked, shiny stick, which
bore a striking resemblance to a black
THE GOOD OLD DAYS
WE often hear people wishing for
the return of the good old days.
An interesting document was brought
to light during the celebration of the
eightieth anniversary of the Carson,
Prarie, Scott and Company store in
Someone in the organization had pre-
served the rules for employees of its
first store which read as follows :
"Store must be open from 6 A. M. to
9 P. M. the year round.
"Store must be swept; counters, base
shelves and showcases dusted. Lamps
trimmed, filled, and chimneys cleaned;
pens made ; doors and windows opened ;
a pail of water, also a bucket of coal
brought in before breakfast (if there is
time to do so) and attend to customers
"Store must not be opened on the
Sabbath unless necessary, and then only
for a few minutes.
"The employee who is in the habit of
smoking Spanish cigars, being shaved
at the barber's, going to dances and
other places of amusement, will surely
give his employer reason to be sus-
picious of his integrity and honesty.
"Each employee must not pay less
than §5 per year to the church and must
attend Sunday School regularly.
"Men employees are given one eve-
ning a week for courting, and two if
they go to prayer meeting.
"After fourteen hours of work in the
store, the leisure time should be spent
mostly in reading."
Now who was it we heard sighing
for "the good old days?"
Eleanor Brewer '37
Mary, Mother Mary, when Jesus was a boy,
Did He ever beg you, tearfully, to mend a broken
And in spite of all your warnings, did He not
And, pitying, bring home with Him some dirty
And when He lingered at your knee, O Mary, did
Him stories of His people when the misty twi-
And, tireless, by His sickbed, did you sit the
night hours through,
Afraid lest some Almighty Power would take
your Boy from you?
And sometimes, Mary, did you feel a strange,
And suddenly look up to see the shadow of a
Mary Bodell '37
Je vais vous decrire une de nos cam-
arades qui est aussi dans notre classe
de francais. Elle a les yeux et les
cheveux bruns. Elle est d'une taille
moyenne et un peu grosse. Souvent elle
porte des robes vertes. Elle parle bien
le francais, mais sa voix est tres douce,
comme nous remarquons dans toutes
nos autres classes. Recemment elle a
recu une licence pour conduire un auto,
et quelques fois elle vient a l'ecole dans
son auto. Elle chante bien, et l'annee
passee elle a eu un role dans l'operette
Maintenant je pense que je vous ai
dit assez d'elle afin que vous puissiez
deviner qui elle est. La connaissez-
Qui est un des garcons les plus popu-
lates de notre ecole superieure? Le
garcon de qui nous parlons est un eleve
de la quatrieme annee et il sortira de
cette ecole en juin.
II joue bien au football et aussi il est
garde dans 1'equippe de basketball.
L'annee passee il etait le tresorier de
la classe de 1936. II y a une chose
en particulier par laquelle nous pouvons
le reconnaitre. C'est son cure-dent qu'il
a entre ses dents presque toujours.
Aussi a-t-il danse notre cirque comme un
petit garcon hollaindais.
Le connaissez-vous ?
UNE HISTOIRE TRISTE
Ceci s'est passe dans une classe d'his-
toine de la troisieme annee de l'ecole
Le sujet du jour etait "l'ltalie" — son
commerce, ses gens, ses coutumes, et
II y avait beaucoup d'eleves dans la
classe dont les parents etaient venus
aux Etats-Unis de l'ltalie. Us parlaient
des choses que leurs parents leur avai-
ent dites de l'ltalie.
Un garcon anime qui parlait couram-
ment a dit : Ma mere et mon pere travil-
laient dur dans les champs de macaroni
en Italie —
Le professeur, tout surpris d'entendre
ceci, l'a interrompu, et d'une maniere
unn peu sarcastique a dit: Mais, mon
ami, ou croyez-vous que le macaroni
Le gargon, indigne, a repondu : Mais
sur les "macaroniers," bien entendu !
Mme. Swift (en discutant avec la
classe l'histoire du Virginian) : Qu'est-
ce que c'est qu'un barbecue?
M. B.: C'est le pole qu'on trouve
pres du magasin d'un barbier.
Cette annee le meme M. B-
en parlant a la classe de ses poules : Ce
sont les faQons dont on peut recon-
naitre une poule qui pondra beaucoup
d'oeufs. II a une crete tres rouge, il
a de grands os, bien formes, et il a un
LA BONNE PRONONCIATION
Un jour, quand nous sommes entres
dans la classe de francais, notre pro-
fesseur, nous a demande d'ecrire une
composition francaise pour notre legon.
Elle a dit:
— Je vous permettrai d'ecrire un
journal pendant une semaine, mais si
quelques-uns veulent, et s'ils peuvent le
faire, je leur permettrai d'ecrire un
Le jour qu'elle a designe la classe lui
a rendu leurs compositions, dans les-
quelles il y avait quelques poemes.
Le professeur les a corrigees et les a
rendues aux eleves. Une fille, qui avait
ecrit un poeme, a remarque qu'elle a
re§u C minus. Elle etait tres etonnee,
et elle a remarque que sur la papier
etait ecrit a l'encre rouge — Ceci ne
— Mais, clit la fille, il rime, quand je
II y a dans cette ecole un gargon qui
n'est pas tres intelligent. II demeure
a North Plymouth, et presque chaque
jour il tache d'avoir une promenade en
voiture. L'autre jour un homme, qui
avait le mot Pennsylvania sur ses
licences de voiture, lui a donne une
promenade a North Plymouth. Le gar-
con a cause avec le bon homme et lui a
demande d'ou il est venu? L'homme lui
— Je viens de Philadelphia.
— Et alors, pourquoi avez-vous des
licences qui disent Pennsylvania? a
repondu le garcon embrouille.
Le professeur expliquait le temps
des verbes. II a tourne a un garcon et
— Quel est le temps passe du verbe
Le gargon a repondu tres vite :
— Divorce !
LA DERNIERE CLASSE
OUAND vous lisez le titre de cette com-
position, je crois que vous penserez
peut-etre a l'histoire, "La Derniere
Classe" par Daudet. Cette histoire de
Daudet est tres triste mais celle que je
vous raconterai n'est pas triste. En
parlant de la "Derniere Classe," je veux
dire notre classe qui sortira de cette
ecole le dix-huit juin, mil neuf cent
Au "Junior High School," l'ecole dans
laquelle nous sommes entres avant
d'entrer dans l'ecole superieure, nous
etions la derniere classe d'avoir Mile.
Katherine O'Brien comme directrice.
Elle etait aimee par toutes les classes
qui l'ont connue.
En mil neuf cent trente-deux cette
grande dame s'est retiree du service
publique. C'etait la raeme annee que
notre classe a quitte "Junior High
School." Nous sommes tres fiers d'avoir
connu si bien Mile. O'Brien et d'avoir
ete sous sa direction.
II est possible que vous vous rappel-
liez que notre classe a recu les derniers
deplomes de "Junior High School."
Ces deplomes etaient presentes a la con-
clusion de la piece "La Vie de George
Washington" dans "Memorial Hall."
Voila deux annees bien passees!
A l'ecole superieure, notre classe a
fait tres bien dans ses etudes. Toutes
les choses qu'elle a entreprises, telles
que des danses, ont reussi.
L'annee prochaine, les classe qui nous
suivent, entreront dans la nouvelle
ecole. Cela nous nous fera la derniere
classe qui sortira de ce batiment, et
aussi la plus grande parce qu'il y a plus
de cent cinquante eleves.
La vie de la classe de trente-six a
l'ecole superieure a ete tres heureuse
puisque les eleves ont coopere en tout.
Ainsi n'est-il pas juste que notre
classe soit appellee "La Derniere
par Vincent Baietti '36
JANET'S ADVANCED STUDIES
(Taken from Edgar Guest)
Tempus erat she thought me very wise,
Sed iam so far est she in school,
She looks at me contristatis eyes
As adoratio starts to cool.
She's needing auxilium et vertit ad me
Exspectat id upon the spot,
Et ego confiteor shamefacedly
What French ego scivi, I've iam forgot.
Nunc Caesaris cum eius Gallicis Wars
Piget earn as olim he fretted me —
'Tis mirum what woes he vixit to cause,
As et juvenes et veteres agree
Mecum on the toro ea sedet
Supra illos commentaries bent,
Et ego sum baffled et admit
I can't dicere nunc what Caesar meant.
Aliquando the twinkles in her eyes
I'm certus conditam laetitiam display
As ego, qui olim have seemed so wise
Meam totam ignorationem display.
Her mater in her placido way
Quoque ridet my plight a lot.
She nictat Janet quando I say:
"Ego scivi id olim, sed I've forgot!"
Annie Paoli '37
HODIE Pilgrim Mater trans frigidos,
inimicos fluctus tacite tuetur. For-
tasse etiam de domu in Anglia relicta
somnit. Fortasse miratur qui multi
viatores, qui aestate circum earn fre-
Scintillans aqua supra eius caput in
marmoream lacunam prope eius pedes
decidit. Marmorea lacuna est plena
aquae aestate et gratus conspectus lasso
viatori est. Alta saepes earn circum-
sistit, velutsi ab clamoso, propinq,uo
itinere earn defendat. Marmoreum sub-
sellium lasso viatori quietem praebet, et
humus circum matrem lapillis operitur.
Hieme mater suis mentibus relinqui-
tur sed aestas admirantes viatores, ut
eius simplicitatem tueantur, fert.
Margaret Donovan '36
SAXUM, in quo Peregrinatores primum
ambulaverunt, et quod Plymouthium
clarum fecit, ad marginem aquae sub
conopeum album, amplum quiescit. Id
est canum saxum et numeros 1620 in eo
insculptos habet. Amplam rimam per
medium etiam habet.
Antiquitus saxum in crepidine aquae
stabat sed post numerum annorum ad
Pilgrimum Atrium sublatum est et pro
eo aedificio collocatum est. Postea ad
portum relatum est.
Aestate multi cives ut id saxum
videant, veniunt. Multi, quod tarn par-
vum saxum vident, frustrantur.
Virginia Wood '36
Adapted from "Hymns of Hate" by E. P. Adams
Tamen velim to scourge with flails
Puellas quae pingunt their finger nails,
Sed laete would I murder those
Quae pingunt suas decern unbeauteous toes.
Ego hoc castigo the crook
Qui borrows nor revertit my book;
Sed ad Gehennam eum I consign
Qui dicit, "Reverte ilium book of mine."
Amor, quam te fastidio when reviewing
Singula quae you have been doing!
Neque mihi dantem a chance to say
Mordaces res I've done all day.
Oh femina, in your hours of care,
Cur non potes facere the roast beef rare?
Et femina, in your hours of fun,
Cur non curas the bacon be well done?
Ethel Shwom '37
THE INFUENCE OF THE POET
rpHE world to-day little realizes how
much it woes to the classic literature
of the old Roman poets: Horace and
Virgil. It is particularly interesting to
note what sayings have been taken
Aside from sayings, his meter, the
dactylic hexameter, was used by Long-
fellow in his epic poem "Evangeline."
Milton in his poem "Paradise Lost" used
much the same descriptions and many of
the incidents. Dryden, Tennyson, and
Chaucer in their turn have all copied
Virgil. Dante, when speaking of his
"Divine Comedy," freely admits that
Virgil was his guide in picturing the
During the second century, it was the
custom to consult Virgil as an oracle in
times of great stress. This was done
by opening the Aeneid to any part and
considering the first line seen by the eye
to be a prophecy. Such prophecies were
known as the Sortes Virgilianae.
No other early author has been con-
sulted and quoted so much as Virgil.
Sayings, some of them now considered
proverbs, are constantly being found in
the translation of the Aeneid. The pur-
port of these vary from: "Who can
deceive a lover?" to that motto of so
many high school classes, "They are able
who seem to be able." From his pen
come also these sayings : "All's fair in
love and war." "Woman — always
fickle," and "Fear betrays weak minds."
Another, less common, is connected with
the Trojan horse : "Don't believe in the
horse. I fear the Greeks even bearing
And lastly, many puns have been
based on that famous first line of the
Aeneid: "Arma virumque cano," such
as, "I cry for arms and a man" rather
than "I sing of war and a hero."
Elizabeth Belcher '36
Auntie — Do you ever play with bad
Willy — Yes, auntie.
Auntie — Why, Willy ! Why don't you
play with good little boys?
Willy — Their mothers won't let me.
— American Boy
WE COULDN'T COLLECT A PRICE
FOR OUR SILENCE — SO
What's the attraction in the Class of
'34, Janet, Lucy, Barbara?
Why does C. G. rate the last dance on
the program, Thelma?
It seems that Stevadores Susie, and
Gildo, has Ella overcome your bash-
Alba has a "to be or not to be" : Eddie
We hope Helen will find Germany
Now, Edna, Pop doesn't like to wait.
And we thought Dot P. was bashful,
Very sorry that the fighting in the
Alumni Game just spoiled your evening,
Dot Roger's escort on a dark Friday
night. (We can see Steve still blush-
Stoo bad Gumma doesn't graduate,
You ought to know Alvin by now,
Babe, especially after cooking him a
Dot V. (these Dots)— It's tough to
make Bob walk to Braunecker's Farm.
How's about a compromise?
Can Pauline tame Tony? (The
Steggy appeals to us too, Warren.
Watch out for the Coast Guards,
Pouvez-vous parler le frangais main-
Tough to lose Madelaine, Willy.
When in doubt consult Webster,
The birds go south, but not Proffetti.
Why don't you speak for yourself,
Hully, why does Janet come to school
The only thing missing, Cap, is the li-
Alvin, make up your mind — Summer
Street or Crescent Street,
Do you think you can manage her,
You must have it bad to steal his pic-
Jelly, we're surprised; falling asleep
between two girls on a 129 mile auto
Are we good? We've even the edi-
By the way, what was the reason for
coloring in February 19th? (Ask B. M.
Tootsie, we wanna know, what hap-
pened behind Weymouth High School
on the night of January 14th?
The seniors ought to have a meeting
every week. Every time the treasurer's
report is read, we make fifty dollars.
There's a basketball player we used
to call "Hearts and Flowers," but we
like "Flutter" better.
We noticed during the coasting sea-
son that teachers enjoy this sport also.
By Luigi & Vincenzo
The Irish "G-Men"
SAND DUNE GRASS
The grasses that grow on the sand of the dunes
Defiantly standing are hardy as knaves,
Heads bowing low they whistle weird tunes
In the face of the wind and the spray of the
The grasses are strong till the fog chills the
For in his gray face what is bravery worth?
They struggle and quail before his might,
Then in utter subjection they bend to the
George W. Wood '36
The sea slipped up to the sand and said,
"O sand, how quiet you lie!
You are baked by the sun the whole day
While only the wind sweeps by.
Now I am in motion from dawn 'til dusk;
And the fish in my green halls play;
And mermen and maidens with tresses of
Sing while I echo their laughter gay."
The sand smiled serenely, and said to the
"O sea, you're entirely wrong;
Though here I must lie in the warm sun-
Without even an echo of song,
I watch the ships with their shimmering
And the gulls with their downy breasts;
All the night long by the moon's silver
I can lie here and dream and rest:
While you must be rushing from shore to
I'm sheltered and shaded by God's own
The children play here to their heart's
I'd rather be sand than a thousand seas!"
P. Roberts '36
HOLD THAT LINE!
IN early September a large, enthusi-
astic squad of football candidates
greeted the new coaches, Mr. Henry
Knowlton, a graduate of Springfield
College, and Mr. Mario Romano, a
graduate of Boston College. After a
few weeks of preliminary training, the
team opened its season with a victory
However, the team did not make a
very impressive record, for it won only
two games, tied one, and lost six, but
the majority of the defeats were due
to the failure to convert the points after
touchdowns. Two games were lost by
one point and two others by two points.
The Weymouth game was lost on the
field, but was later won on a forfeit as
one of Weymouth's players was over
the age limit. But we are counting this
game as a loss — not a win. The high-
lights of the season were the Rockland
and Whitman games.
In the Rockland game, played at
Rockland, the team's most sensational
play was made. Tony "Jumbo" Govoni,
star backfield man, received a punt,
wove back and forth through the entire
Rockland team, and with a touchdown
in sight, stumbled exhausted. Then at
the last moment he heaved a lateral
pass to a team-mate who ran unmolest-
ed for a touchdown.
This year Whitman had an unde-
feated season, but its record was
smirched by a tie game with Plymouth.
Whitman came to Plymouth an over-
whelming favorite, but the home town
lads, undaunted by their opponents'
impressive record, played sensational
football to score first and add the extra
point after the touchdown to go into
the lead seven to nothing. Whitman
fought back grimly and, with only
seconds of the first half remaining,
scored a touchdown on a fluke pass
which was partially blocked, then
added the extra point to tie the score.
The game finally ended in a seven to
The season ended at Weymouth and
after the game Louis Poluzzi, who had
acted as captain in some of the games,
was elected honorary captain of the
season just completed.
After the football togs were put
away, the team was tendered a ban-
quet held at the Church of the Pilgrim-
age. The dinner was served by high
school girls under the supervision of
Miss McNerny. Speeches were delivered
by Mr. Knowlton, Mr. Romano, Mr.
Handy, Mr. Shipman, Mr. Bagnall, and
Mr. Haskell. The captain, Louis Poluz-
zi, on behalf of the team, then presented
Mr. Knowlton and Mr. Romano with
small gold footballs, whereupon Telio
Giammarco was unanimously elected
football captain of 1936.
The prospects for next year are
fairly bright, for the following boys
are returning: Captain Telio Giam-
marco, "Red" Reggini, Ed. Wright, Bev.
James, Carbone, Barbieri, Tassanari,
Leonardi, Allen, G. Fratus, Montimaggi,
and probably "Jumbo" Govoni. There
are also many promising prospects
from the freshmen ranks.
FOOTBALL FIFTY YEARS AGO
T^OOTBALL originated in a rather un-
-T usual way at Plymouth High School
about fifty years ago. One student ob-
tained a book of rules and, after reading
it, the other fellows decided to organize
a team. With this rule book as a coach,
the boys all contributed a little money,
bought a ball, and began to practice on
Lincoln Street Field.
The equipment was very different
from .that used to-day, for the players
had no padded uniforms to protect
them. A "duck-skin" suit was a very
popular article of equipment. This suit
was made of oil skin which was very
slippery; therefore it was very difficult
for the opponents to tackle the ball-
carrier. Only one player had cleats on
his shoes ; the rest used any shoes they
owned. Although the equipment afford-
ed little protection to the players, there
were few injuries. The school bought
no equipment for the team, nor did it
aid it in any way.
The team played such schools as
Powder Point, Kingston, and Bridge-
Continued on Page 50
First Row: B. James, M. Garuti, L. Poluzzi, A. Whiting, H. Raymond, R. Proffetti,
Second Row: B. Petit, M. Petit, H. Smith, L. Goodwin. G. Ferazzi, V. Baietti.
Third Row: Coach Ingraham, John Ryan, E. Leonardi, A. Medeiros, M. Reggini,
Continued from Page 48
water Normal. These games were con-
sidered a long trip for the team as its
means of transportation were limited.
In those days the team traveled by horse
and wagon, for the automobile had not
been invented. The roads were made of
gravel, and it took the team two or three
hours to reach Powder Point.
The home games were played at
Goddards Field, which was situated on
Holmes Terrace. No admission was
charged to about two hundred specta-
tors who attended the games. Often one
of the players had to work on the day
of the game and the team would scour
the town looking for someone to play in
The field was uneven and not free
from stones, which made the running
hard and bruised the players consider-
ably. Some of the players at that time
were "Charlie" Gooding, John Church-
ill, "Fred" Goddard, "Gippy" Sander-
son, and "Skip" Morton.
The playing field was the same size as
it is to-day and was marked off in the
same manner. The number of players
used was also the same as to-day. The
boys usually did not play the same
position throughout the season.
until that stage of the game.
The team was handled in a fine man-
ner by Coaches Ingraham and Knowlton.
They were, naturally, somewhat handi-
capped by unfamiliarity with the ability
of each player.
The highlight of the season was the
fine showing made by the team at the
South Shore Tournament held at the
Brockton Y. M. C. A. There they regis-
tered an overwhelming victory over
Stetson High of Randolph in the first
round of play. In the second round the
team faced the strong Oliver Ames
High School of North Easton which
had scored a victory over Plymouth
during the regular playing season,
and which was considered the favorite
to w;n the tournament. After a hard-
fought contest, Plymouth gained a 25 to
23 victory to enter the semi-finals. It
was here the team met its Waterloo
when it was defeated by Weymouth
High 50 to 22.
The players lost by graduation are
Captain Alton Whiting, Harold Ray-
mond, Mario Garuti, Louis Poluzzi,
Robert Proffetti, and Lawrence Good-
win. Those players returning are Ga-
briel Ferazzi, Telio Giammarco, Nicholas
Carbone, Howard Smith, Beverly James,
GIRLS' HOCKEY TEAM
First Row: E. Shreiber, D. Hall, A. Hall, E. Nickerson, M. Brigida.
Second Roio: A. Wood, M. Donovan, J. Clark, C. Drew, L. Mayo, E. Vaughn.
Third Roiv: A. Shreiber, E. Belcher, P. Johnson, K. Christie, P. Lovell, M. Lahey,
Fourth Row: Mrs. Garvin, C. Handy, M. Weild, J. Whitney, J. Hall, E. Lee,
E. Payson, J. Pearson.
GIRLS' BASKETBALL TEAM
First Row: N. Caldera, J. Clark, A. Martinelli, A. Kail, C. Drew, L. Mayo.
Second Row: P. Johnson, E. Shreiber, M. Donovan, K. Christie, P. Lovell, E.
Vaughn, E. Nickerson.
Third Row: L. Nicoli, A. Shreiber, M. Weild, E. Lee, D. Hall, J. Perrault, M.
Lahey, L. Brewster, M. Tracey.
Fourth Row: Mrs. Garvin, A. Wood, J. Whiting, E. Belcher, J. Hall, E. Payson,
M. Brigida, R. Flagg.
Continued from Page 50
Elizabeth Vaughn, left fullback; and
Daisy Hall, goalie.
Oct. 2 Scituate 1 1 away
10 Hyannis 2 1 here
17 Marshfield 3 2 away
23 Kingston 3 here
25 Bourne 7 away
28 Tabor 5 2 here
Nov. 8 Bourne 7 1 here
14 Marshfield 2 here
20 Kingston 6 1 away
30 Alumni 6 here
More success ! Plymouth's second
team played three games, winning one,
tying the other two !
And there was a very tangible re-
ward for this successful season !
A banquet was served in Allerton
Chapel, Church of the Pilgrimage, by
high school girls under the supervision
of Miss McNerny. The guests of honor
were Mrs. Raymond, Miss Brown, and
Mrs. Garvin. Miss Brown, the toast-
mistress, introduced the speakers, Mary
Brigida, Janet Clark, Betty Hall, Lucy
Mayo, Marjorie Tracy, and Mrs. Gar-
vin, who spoke briefly on different
phases of hockey. Later in the evening
Mrs. Garvin initiated an indoor track
meet which was fun for everyone.
The prospects of another good hockey
team next fall are excellent, and this
year's team extends its best wishes to
Mrs. Garvin for another successful
season next year.
GET THAT TAP!
rpHE girls also enjoyed a basketball
A season which warrants our praise.
They played eight games and lost but
one game, the first one, by the narrow
margin of one basket. The seven vic-
tories were by large scores.
Their schedule was:
Jan. 15 Middleboro 14 16 here
29 Bridgewater 37 9 away
Feb. 5 Rockland 30 9 here
8 Alumni 42 7 here
12 E. Bridgewater 42 5 here
18 Rockland 27 7 away
21 Bridgewater 27 11 here
Mar. 12 Middleboro 30 18 away
The girls who established this fine
record were: Alba Martinelli, captain;
Lucy Mayo, Janet Clark, as guards;
and Betty Hall, Cynthia Drew, Phyllis
Johnson, and Natalie Caldeira as for-
The second team won the distinction
of turning every game into a victory
— and there were seven of them. How-
ever, they had. to play hard to establish
their record. These girls were : Evelyn
Schreiber, captain; Elizabeth Vaughn,
Margaret Donovan, as guards; Kath-
erine Christie, Phyllis Lovell, and
Phyllis Johnson as forwards.
Janet Clark '36
FOR some years past, girls obtaining
eight hundred points in sports over a
period of three years were given a
grand award. In 1933 three of these
awards, silver loving cups suitably en-
graved, were bestowed upon Bertha
James, Dorothy Testoni, and Leah Al-
Since that time a candidate has been
required to earn one thousand points
in order to receive the cup. In the Class
of 1933 there is an exceptionally large
number of girls who have attained this
goal. At the Commencement Exercises
five senior girls will be honored : Alice
Ha 1, Janet Clark, Lucy Mayo, Margaret
Donovan, and Elizabeth Vaughan. To
them we extend our congratulations.
CONFESSIONS OF A G-MAN
THE town clock was just striking one
as I boarded the U. S. S. Shipmayi.
Lang, Lang ... it must be two o'clock.
But one or two, it didn't bother me. I
was leaving my birthplace, my native
land, for a distant isle on which the
sun Smileys all day.
I immediately went below and made
haste to Locklin my cabin and Coombe
my hair. I was about to retire when
there was a knock. I went to the door
Andrea my gun, but no one was there.
Dirty work below decks !
The next day we were shipwrecked on
Humphreefs. Did that bother me? Not
in the least. I just made a Rafter and
Pyled a Bag (nail) of food on it, and
started for shore.
Once on terra firma again, I got into
my WVber's Knight and drove off to
headquarters. On the way public enemy
No. 101, a Brown boy, tried to Kelly
me. I managed to escape, but one of his
bu'lets must have punctured the tires.
I got out and Jacques up my car but I
Kenefichs it. I didn't Carey so I started
On the way I met a man with a
Packard. He gave me a ride the rest
of the way. The secret of my success:
However far you may Jaunt (son),
there's no place like home.
GIRLS' TRACK TEAM
First Row: Janet Clark, Alice Hall, Edna Nickerson.
Second Row: Cynthia Drew, Elizabeth Vaughn, Marion Morey, Phyllis Johnson.
■ H H
LET'S take time out to see what some
1 of the former members of P. H. S.
Helen Brewer, our former all-round
athlete, is in Vermont attending Mid-
During the past winter, we envied
"Babe" James in the sunny south. He
has been outstanding in basketball dur-
ing the past year at Florida A. & M.
This year finds Warren Strong at
Annapolis ; and Robert Martin, after at-
tending M. I. T. for a year, is now at
West Point. Lucky boys ! Do uniforms
become them !
Out in New York state "Jim" Clark
is taking life easy at Colgate. "Jim"
is a member of the Phi Gamma Delta
Nearer home, we find Katherine La-
hey and Albert Albertini conquering
their difficulties at Bridgewater State
Lucy Holmes, our capable editor-in-
chief of '35, is ranking high scholastic-
ally at Boston University. She won a
scholarship upon completion of her first
cation at the Boston University School
Leroy Schreiber, who attended Moses
Brown last year, is distinguishing him-
self at Harvard.
Howard Corey and August Gomes are
learning the fine art of farming at the
Stockbridge School of Agriculture.
Harry Burns, enrolled at North-
western College, recently received a
scholarship and was also accepted into
the Phi Gamma Delta fraternity.
Elizabeth Ryan '36
TO encourage good citizenship among
young people, the Massachusetts
Chapter of the Daughters of the Ameri-
can Revolution sponsored a contest. Its
purpose was to make people of all ages
ponder the nature and value of a good
citizen. The plan was to have each
school in Massachusetts select a girl
whom they considered its best citizen.
When each school had made its choice,
the names were put into a large box
and one was selected. This lucky girl
was to have a free trip to Washington,
D. C, in April, actually to see how the
nvPl'nmpnt r,f tha TTnitorl States fuilC-
be willing to let someone else accept re-
sponsibility, that perhaps she already
has enough to do? No! We just urge
her to do more for us ; and we get
results, the best.
"How can she find time for her stud-
ies?" we wonder in our more sober
moments. We confess that we do not
know, but she does find the time, for,
in spite of her leadership and service to
her class and school, she is able to
maintain excellent grades ; in fact, the
highest in her class. She is a fine worker
because she is a willing one.
She has set an example to be followed
by every member of Plymouth High
School. She has a record to be proud of,
and we are proud of her. We salute
our best citizen, Alba Martinelli !
Lucy Mayo '36
The Principal's Column
WHEN we want a thing, we make
it — then it's ours." I found this
statement in the prospectus of a summer
camp for boys, underneath a photo-
graph of the boys constructing an out-
door stage. Later on I discovered that
many other things which added to the
equipment, convenience, and beauty of
the camp had been made by the campers
themselves. I think this is a most com-
mendable procedure, for, after all is said
and done, there is no doubt that the
planning and creating of something
tangible and worth producing brings
abundant satisfaction. In these days
when so much is done for us, it is, very
easy to sit back and do nothing for our-
selves. But such an attitude has its ob-
vious limitations. There yet remains a
great deal of creative work to be done
in the world. Initiative, originality,
and perseverance still command respect
and recognition, and bring the finest
sort of satisfaction to him who pos-
sesses those virtues.
Just a few days ago I saw a cartoon
in a newspaper. It consisted cf two pic-
tures. The one was that of a pioneer
prospector, with his crude kit loaded
on a horse making his way laboriously
toward some distant mountains. The
man was represented as saying, "Thar's
gold in them 'ere hills." The other
was that of a young man looking toward
the towering skyscrapers representing
the business and financial district of a
great city. The caption was a para-
phrase of the first inscription and read,
in effect, "There's opportunity in those
edifices." Just so. There is opportunity
both in town and country. The frontiers,
as such, have disappeared, but pioneers
are needed in other fields. Omitting,
for the moment, considerations of the
materialistic accomplishments of our
day and generation, I ask you, have we
reached the ultimate in forming "a
more perfect union," establishing "jus-
tice," insuring "domestic tranquility,"
promoting "the general welfare," and
securing "the blessings of liberty to
ourselves and our posterity?" Have
we yet guaranteed "life, liberty, and the
pursuit of happiness" to all members of
our democratic society? My* hope is that
the objectives of not only the founders
of our government but also of those
who in every age have envisioned our
nation as it ought to be, will be ad-
vanced in no slight degree. Just as
our new building is being constructed
brick by brick, and eventually will be
completed as conceived in the architect's
mind, — a nearly perfect whole — , just
so our democratic institutions and social
structure will, in due time, reach a high
state of attainment. Do you care
enough about it to bring it to pass?
Wayne M. Shipman
The untimely death of Ermes P.
Manzotti has created among the
students and alumni of Plymouth
High School a sense of irreparable
loss. We admired him for his loy-
alty to his friends and to his
school, his steadfastness of pur-
pose, his determination to succeed.
We honored him for his musical
ability of which he gave most
freely to provide pleasure for
many. His work in "Daniel
Boone," "The Pirates of Penzance,"
and "H. M. S. Pinafore" will long
be remembered by all who heard
him sing, and the scholarship
which he received from the New
England Conservatory of Music
was a fitting tribute to his talent.
His passing leaves many of us who
are proud to say, "He was my
S. A. S. EXECUTIVE BOARD AND COUNCIL
First Row: A. Dutton, M. Tracey, D. Perkins, L. Mayo, D. Beytes, L.
J. Whiting, D. Pedersani.
Second Row: M. Bodell, I. Albertini, B. Paty, V. Baietti, T. Ferioli,
borghini, M. Fox, A. Martinelli.
Third Row: A. Hall, M. Brigida, M. Weild, P. Sears, A. Tavernelli, L.
Fourth Row: F. Scheid, W. Bradford, J. Maccaferri, J. Tavernelli, W.
R. Sampson, W. Clark.
Fifth Row: Mr. Shipman, Miss Judd, Mr. Packard, A. Galvani, L. Goodwin,
S. Brewster, Mrs. Raymond, Miss Brown.
THE letters S. A. S. stand for Student
Activities Society and refer to the
whole student body of Plymouth High
School, for every student in school is
automatically a member of S. A. S.
According to its constitution, the Soci-
ety's purpose is to "encourage activities,
both old and new, in Plymouth High
School" ; in other words, since the for-
mation of the Society, student activities
have been promoted by the students
themselves instead of being initiated
by the faculty. Like the citizens of the
country, the citizens of the school are
too numerous to govern themselves di-
rectly and must, of necessity, act
through their representatives. Your
Executive Board (initiating projects)
and your Student Council (voting on
projects suggested) act and speak for
you. Do you know them, consult them,
and give orders to them? You should!
Since the Society was formed in the
spring of 1934 its representatives have
acted upon several important questions
and promoted some very valuable ac-
tivities, including the following:
1. The adoption of a standard school
2. The development of cheering at
3. Attempts at establishing more
cordial student-faculty social re-
4. The compiling of a school hand-
5. The beginning of a definite pro-
gram of student participation in
6. School cooperation in an annual
all-school entertainment (the cir-
What does the future hold for S. A.
S.? It depends on you !
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Oh, the wailing and the sighing,
As our pencil we've been plying, .
In attempting to review the year's
So excuse our humble trying
Of our hand at versifying,
And forgive the awful doggerel it
First of all for student talent
(And this year it was most salient,)
And the very gifted pupils, here's a
To them all we give our praises,
Turn with us through memory's pages —
We'll recall the best assemblies of the
Station W. P. H. S. — Your announcer
is Ralph Lamborghini!
Twice came that checking-up time,
That seniors-on-the-spot time
When you wracked your brain to
think of what you knew !
Know your etiquette and history,
Your English and biology —
Or the curious announcer will get
A Sidewalk Controversy
Orchids to Ethel,
Our Miss Fanny Brice,
Whose very clever monologues
Brought laugh-tears to our eyes.
An Original Composition by Our Sax
There was Joe Correa's composing
And he had us all supposing
That we had another Gershwin in our
To Tedeschi's clever playing
Highest compliments we're paying,
And to both of them we give our
Over Station W. P. H. S.
We had the biggest star show
Ever heard on radio,
With Major Bowes and Portland
And Penner, Pitts, and Garbo.
But we can't do this sort of thing
indefinitely, so we revert to prose.
And now, surely you haven't forgot-
ten the Christmas assembly presented
by the Senior French classes. You recall
that the scene was laid in a Provencal
church on Christmas eve. Lovely,
hushed, with the white candle flames
flickering, the shepherd bringing his
lamb to be blessed, the carol-singing,
the peasants who entered with meas-
ured tread — all were perfect to the last
Then, there was the day we all went
"buggy." day of revelation! Seeing
the little eels in vinegar and the other
infinitesimal "animals," revealed and
explained so well by Dr. George Rom-
mert of Munich, Germany, reminded us
of the old jingle:
"Little bugs have smaller bugs
Upon their backs to bite 'em:
And these same bugs have other bugs
And so "ad infinitum."
Of course, you remember Richard de
Stephano, of the Junior High School,
who played the piano so beautifully for
us. His fingers ran over the keys, and
we sighed and thought, perhaps — if
only we had practised!
The very exclusive Freshman dance
held in Memorial Hall was, as usual, a
great success, with the Harmony Twelve
furnishing the music.
And you must have enjoyed the cir-
cus and vaudeville show whether you
were a performer or a spectator !
Do you recall the old-fashioned spell-
ing bee held by Room 26? "Ipecac" cer-
tainly proved the sticker!
We all enjoyed the amateur show won
by the inimitable Ethel Shwom. 'Baba,
do by arithbetic exepple fore be?" Re-
As we come to the end of this col-
umn, we realize that this is the last
time "under the white cupola," for next
year we'll be in the new school. And
that is an experience to which all un-
derclassmen are looking forward.
And so, goodbye until next Septem-
Mary Bodell '37
THE OLD MAN
HE was an old man who lived by him-
self on the outskirts of the town in a
little tumbled-down shack that looked as
if it would heave a sigh and crumble to
the ground at the slightest provocation.
He never ventured out except to buy
something to eat, and he purchased in
amounts that would hardly keep a cat
alive. His long beard and hair were al-
ways unkempt. He always wore the
same baggy patched pants and the same
shabby jacket that was so thin that one
dared not touch it for fear it would fall
apart. The same dilapidated hat was
always pulled down over his eyes. When
he had paid for his purchases with the
few coins he kept in his pocket, he would
shuffle back to his shack and lock him-
self in. In the evening one could faintly
discern a dim light sending its feeble
rays through the broken blinds which
were always locked tight. The small
lawn was a carpet of leaves and weeds,
and an old gnarled oak tree leaned over
the house as if it were not able to stand
up alone. A shed behind the shack had
He always went to the village gen-
eral store twice a week on the same
days. At night promptly at seven the
one light would be turned on, no matter
how dark it was before the specified
time. He had come to Oakville about
twenty years ago and nobody knew any
more about him then than they had when
he first came. No one knew his name,
but they all called him the "Old Man."
Some people had tried to find out about
him and tried to start a conversation,
but always he would turn his faded eyes
on them with a blank expression on his
face, mutter something unintelligible,
and shamble away, leaving the person
staring at him. Many thought him in-
On one of the days that he always
came to the store, he didn't appear.
The storekeeper, who thought it was
queer, kept looking for him. That night
his curiosity got the better of him and
so about eight o'clock he and a few
other townsmen went to the shack. The
usual light was not burning. The shop-
keeper was disturbed, thinking the old
man might be ill. They smashed in the
door. Cold, musty air met them. The
shopkeeper shivered and drew his coat
more closely about him. Someone struck
a match and, finding the lamp, lit it. The
room contained only a table on which
was the lamp, a chair, and a tumble-
down bed. There on the bed lay the
old man, dead — dead from the cold and
hunger. And no one ever knew who he
was or where he came from.
Audrey Dutton '37
ONE WITHERED ROSE
I found a withered rose
Press't tight in one old book,
And I wondered why I chose
To keep this souvenir.
A year ago I put it there —
The year has passed away —
And now I quite despair
To discover the reason why.
Was it a dream, a hate,
Some pain or hopeless love?
Or was it guiding Fate
That made me lay it there?
The leaves are slowly crumbling,
No need for mournful sigh,
The rose is now but dust,
And the wind tosses it high.
Alba Martinelli '36
"Now, be sure and write plain on
those bottles," said the farmer to the
druggist, "which is for the horse and
which is for me. I don't want anything
to happen to that horse before the
spring plowing." — Texas Ranger
Mrs. Bargainhunt (at jeweller's) —
I just bought this ring at Cut Rate
Joe's, across the street. How do you
pronounce the name of the stone? Is
it turkoise or turkwoise?
Jeweller (after inspecting stone) —
The correct pronunciation, madam, is
"glass." — Michigan Christian Advocate
Mr. U. R. A. Reader
U. S. A.
Aware of the fact that you are in
search of the best of school magazines,
we send an analysis of some of these.
The Wampatuck, Braintree, we find,
is very well-arranged, and full of in-
teresting cuts. Here is an excerpt il-'
lustrating its humor :
"A milliner endeavored to sell to a
colored woman one of the last season's
hats at a very moderate price. It was
a large, white picture hat.
"Law, no, honey!" exclaimed the
woman. "I could nevah weah that. I'd
look jes' like a blueberry in a pan of
Another of our friends is the Gazette
of Lynn. The first thing that we par-
ticularly noticed (we always begin at
the middle) was an idiosyncracy ap-
propriately called the Gasjette. The
humor literally flooded us.
Next is the Red Cap of North At-
tleboro which includes a most original
feature, "The Gospel Truth." How-
ever, this little paper lacks a variety of
poetry and fiction.
The Scoop, a newsy little paper from
Wareham, is next on our list. The
Snooper, we noticed, is right on his job.
The colorful cover design of the
Sachem of Middleboro drew us like a
bee to honey. The only fault that we
could find was a decided lack of illus-
The Blue Oivl, published by the stud-
ents of the Attleboro High School, is
stuffed full of interesting stories. When
better stories are written, Blue Owl will
This time it is the Stetson Oracle of
Randolph. And again we were con-
fronted with something new; namely,
"Without a Pencil." It is composed of
"brain teasers" which serve their pur-
pose much too well.
In the Abhis of Abington, we par-
ticularly noticed two features written
in play form: "Abhis Episodes" and
"An Intellectual Debate." However,
we could find no jokes.
The Clipper of Barnstable is next on
our list. This is a newcomer, although
it seemed like a veteran to us. Its car-
toonist surely owns a clever pencil.
Last of all, we submit the Eastoner of
the Oliver Ames High School. Its joke
page is full of original wit. Our eye
was also attracted by a feature, "The
Job of an Editor."
Pedestrian (to boy leading a skinny
mongrel pup) — What kind of a dog is
that, my boy?
Boy — This is a police dog.
Pedestrian — That doesn't look like a
Boy — Nope, it's in the secret service.
— Tips and Topics
Lady (in crowd) : Stop pushing,
Stout Man: I'm not pushing; I only
sighed. — Movie News
Once a Scotchman didn't go to a ban-
quet because he didn't know what the
word gratis on the invitation meant.
The next day he was found dead before
an open dictionary. — Open Road
"Dear Doctor: My pet billy-goat is
seriously ill from eating a complete
leather-bound set of Shakespeare. What
do you prescribe?"
Answer: "Am sending the Literary
Digest by return mail."
Arlene Raymond c -
Ruth Raymond ..■-■/
"■ r El
Katherine T. Sampson
Kathryn V. Sampson
Elly ■ -
Pevelyn ■ .
To have a "sugar daddy"
To know her history
To grow up
To reduce 50 pounds more or less
To find the guy who wrote this nickname
To aid people
To find something to laugh at
To have friends to treat
To meet Clark Gable
To be remembered
To live in Duxbury
To be a fixer-upper
To tell people about her "old home town"
To keep busy
To lead a band
To wear a uniform
To complain about something
To get physically fit and stay that way
To be a farm maid
To dance with Fred Astaire
To be as tall as Pauline
To dance with Deane and Carlo at the same time
To become famous
To be a nut
To own a red car in partnership
To shovel snow in June
To control her stubborness
To be successful
To be a second Daddy-long-legs
To give a good speech
To make everyone's hair curl
To talk once in class and not get caught
To keep fooling
To be a debutante
To meet the German Band
To meet that fellow — 8 ft. 4V 2 in.
To have a secretary to read for her in class
To lead an orchestra
To sell cough drops
To have an amplifier to talk through
To be a good screamer
To be heard
To be the President's secretary
To be a queen
To be a dietitian
To be or not to be
To be around in 1955
To ride on a fire engine
To go to Germany
To join Major Bowes' Amateurs
To be a champion broad-jumper
To own a yarn shop
To live in a brick house
To make up her mind
To own a cutwork shop
To be everyone's friend
To have naturally curly hair
To learn to say "Hi"
To be a model
To go to Harvard
To be a success at graduation
To be a fan dancer
To fool some of the people with her tricks
To be a nightingale
To extract teeth
To go skunk hunting
To talk in town meeting ...
To wiggle her ears
To be a friend
To shut doors quietly
To own a banjo factory
To keep those curls
To be the cop on the corner
To have a new beach wagon to drive
To be a guest at a filling station
To be natural
To be a hostess at a lunch counter
To be somebody's honey
To prove her point
To be Clark Gable's secretary
To know all the answers
To get married
To own a Handkerchief Shoppe
To shine doorknobs
To get notes for the rest of her life
To be head messenger
To forget he was an elephant
To own a bank for his dimes
To be everyone's milkman
To be a gentleman (farmer?) with a future
To be a slave to women
To finish making his car
To be a one-man brain trust
To be a villain
To take things easy
To learn to drive
To be a Manomet Hill-Billy
To go back to the farm
To stay out of hospitals
To have an ambition
To make more money
To be Bigger and Better
To overcome his bashfulness (open to suggestion)
To be an A-l Skipper-of -classes
To be a good ride-thumber
To be a hermit
To know when the teacher's looking
To own his own car
To wake up early
To be in circulation or Mr. X
To be without that guy, Hully
To own a soap box
To have a private shoe shine boy
To be a truant officer, heh, heh!
To manufacture red sweaters
To go to West Point
To be in all the hockey games
To be a parachute jumper
To be a speedy paper boy
To find a girl
To get out of high school
To help Braddy finish the car
To be a cooking teacher
To go to Holland
To do something surprising
To learn to dance (assistance needed)
To tour Ethiopia on a bicycle
To be a good cook
To play for the Red Sox
To be a good wisecracker
To find a good listener
To be mayor of Chiltonville
To be another Rip Van Winkle
To go with Louis
To be with a nurse
To get his English done on time
To know this power he has over women
To be a menace to society
To be a graduate
To run a dancing school
TO live in Plymouth
To be a lumberjack
To be a marathon runner
To be the head of all Western Union Stations
First Row: Mr. Shipman, Miss Carey, Miss Rafter, Miss Coombes, Miss Jacques,
Miss Johnson, Miss Wilbur, Mr. Mongan.
Second Row: Miss Locklin, Miss McNerney, Miss Brown, Miss Judd, Mrs. Ray-
mond, Miss Humphrey, Miss Lang.
Third Row: Miss Andrews, Miss Johnson, Miss Kenenck.
Fourth Row: Mr. Ingraham, Mr. Pyle, Mr. Smiley, Mr. Bagnall, Mr. Packard,
«h s ... i & At) ^|p '
^■c fc 4 ft. .aJha-- ...
t/*^ - w" ^^BPP^v
Firsi flow;: Miss Carey, A. Dutton, E. Belcher, V. Baietti, J. Whiting, D. Beytes,
D. Perkins, E. Ryan, P. McCosh, D. Pederzani.
Second Row: M. Bodell, A. Martinelli, M. Weild, L. Mayo, K. Christie, P.
Roberts, M. Fox.
Third Row: M. Brigida, J. Clark, A. Paoli.
Fourth Row: E. Vaughn, LeB. Briggs, L. Goodwin, J. Ryan, L. Brewster, T.
Feriola, P. Viau.
NEW ENGLAND CONSERVATORY
IN these past few uncertain years, the
question of choosing the institution of
higher learning which shall best enable
the student to continue those lines of
study in which, during his high school
career, he has displayed most aptitude,
has, more than ever before, become a
question of very great moment. With
the changing of conditions, students
have been forced to consider practical
conditions as well as higher education
in its more cultural aspects.
For those of you who feel that vour
natural endowments peculiarly fit you to
train yourselves in any one of the
myriad branches of music, it is a neces-
sity that you should enroll in a musical
institution of proved standing — in the
front ranks of which must be numbered
the New England Conservatory of
Music. In tune with the times, the
student will find himself advised to
deve'op his musical ability with today's
two goals always in mind — music as an
art, and music as a profession.
It cannot be denied that in the past
decade the young musician's prospects
have brightened. While, as always,
those who achieve fame as great per-
formers remain a handful, the amazing
growth of music in schools has opened
many new ways for teachers, and has
caused the New England Conservatory
to enlarge its School Music Department.
Marked increase of public interest in
better music has placed young musicians
in positions in which possibilities of
success are greater.
In addition to a complete curriculum
of subiects both in applied and the-
oretical music (arranged in courses
leading to diploma or degrees) the New-
England Conservatory of Music — by
reason of a large and able faculty, and
the extensive scope of its facilities —
is able to offer students practical ex-
perience they would be able to obtain
in but few other institutions. The Con-
servatory Orchestra, numbering eighty-
five players, affords training in orches-
tral routine and literature ; weekly
student recitals afford young perform-
ers invaluable experience in performing
before audiences; and the recent inau-
guration of weekly broadcasts has fre-
quently enlisted the services of advanced
student performers. An exceptionally
active Dramatic Department, and a di-
vision of academic studies, supplement
the Conservatory's musical resources.
Many students, attending other schools
in Boston, often continue musical work
with private lessons at the Conserva-
tory — either as a cultural avocation or
with an eye to its future importance in
Today, modern educators are agreed
that as a contribution to happy, enjoy-
able, creative living, nothing can quite
take the place of music.
L. M. — I hear that they are printing
a lot of junk in The Pilgrim this year?
Dumb — Yah ! Your picture appears
on at least six different pages.
Small Boy — What is college bred?
Pop (with a son at college) — They
make college bread, my boy, from the
flour of youth and the dough of old age.
— West Pointer
First Stranger (at the party) — Very
dull, isn't it?
Second — Yes, very.
First — Let's go home.
Second — I can't, I'm the host.
"Bredren," said the colored preacher,
"you have come to pray for rain.
Bredren, de foundation of religion am
faith. Whar is yoah faith? You comes
to pray foh rain and not one of yo'
brings his umbrella."
Dolly was just home after her first
day at school. "Well, darling," asked
her mother, "what did they teach you ?"
"Not much," replied the child. I've
got to go again." — Montreal Star
The editors wish to express
their indebtedness to the Senior
Typewriting Class for typing the
copy for this issue of THE Pilgrim.
64 THE PILGRIM
Your Design for Living
should include the development and training
of your talent in Music as
A SATISFYING, CREATIVE PROFESSION, OR
A CULTURAL, STIMULATING AVOCATION
Beginning Its 70th Year September 17, 1936
Director III" Rfflll^tll Dean o/ Faculty
Wallace Goodrich \JM l~ M.\J **Jm\* Frederick S. Converse
Offers you: General or Specialized training in all de-
partments of music in one of the country's oldest musical
institutions . . . Courses leading to Degrees or Diploma
— either as a performer, teacher, in public school music,
or as a Bachelor or Master of Music . . . Private
instruction in applied music or theoretical subjects
Evening school courses throughout the year . . .
Practical training . . . weekly student recitals afford
valuable experience to soloists ... a symphony
orchestra of eighty-five players . . . weekly radio
broadcasts by faculty members and advanced students
. . . Band and Chorus of student performers . . .
Dramatic Department, with full season of presentations
. . . Dancing.
FOR DETAILED, ILLUSTRATED CATALOG and APPLICATIONS
FREDERICK S. CONVERSE, Dean
New England Conservatory of Music
HUNTINGTON AVENUE BOSTON, MASS.
(ElaBB at 1H3B
GIVE A THOUGHT TO THE FUTURE
TTAVE you thought of the time when you will be ready to take your
place in the world of industry? Have you picked the career you
wish to follow?
Why not, then, follow the example of
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choose Beauty Culture, the profession
that insures success .... that means
good positions — a professional career
and a pleasing vocation.
The Wilfred Academy of Hair and
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manned by a faculty of world famous
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sign and beauty culture. It thoroughly
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A Wilfred diploma enjoys unequaled
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are well versed in all the fundamen-
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Call, write or phone for illustrated
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Register now, so that you may be sure
of a place in our classes the day after
your school term is over.
OF BEAUTY CULTURE
492 Boylston St., Boston Mass. KENmore 7286
ALSO NEW YORK, BROOKLYN, PHILADELPHIA, NEWARK
You'll want to look your best when you step up to receive your diploma,
at that great event — Graduation
WE HAVE THE SUITS, TIES, SHIRTS, AND SHOES THAT WILL GIVE YOU THE
WELL-DRESSED APPEARANCE THAT YOU DESIRE. VISIT OUR STORE
AND LET US ASSIST YOU IN MAKING YOUR SELECTIONS.
PURITAN CLOTHING COMPANY
"Plymouth's Largest Store for Men arid Boys"
56 MAIN STREET
JOHN E. JORDAN CO.
Your Hardware Store For 111 Years
Paints, Household Appliances,
Plumbing, Heating and Sheet Metal Work
Tel. 283 PLYMOUTH
STEVENS THE FLORIST
FLOWERS FOR ALL OCCASIONS
9 COURT STREET
Member of The Florist Telegraph Delivery Association
H. A. BRADFORD
S. S. Pierce Specialties
Birdseye Frosted Foods
1 Warren Ave. Tel. 1298-W
The Unit for Your School Dances
DR. WM. E. CURTIN
ZANELLO FURNITURE CO,
Bedding -- Furniture -- Upholstering
84 COURT ST. Tel. 1485 PLYMOUTH
PLYMOUTH BAKING CO.
BREAD, PIES, and CAKES
Wholesale and Retail
20 Market St. Tel. 225-M Plymouth
THE LINCOLN ST. and PRINCE ST.
RICHARD'S SHOE REBUILDER
IT HAS BEEN OUR GREAT PLEASURE TO SERVE
BOTH THE HIGH AND JUNIOR HIGH SCHOOLS
DURING THE SCHOOL YEARS FROM 1929 TO 1936
High Quality Ice Cream
MITCHELL - THOMAS CO., INC.
Plymouth's Leading Furniture Store
OPPOSITE PILGRIM HALL
Careful and Thorough Work Done
For You In
CENTRAL SHOE REPAIR
37 Main Street
"AMERICA'S GREAT SHOE-VALUE"
W. L. DOUGLAS SHOE CO.
WILLIAM W. HARLOW, Manager
47 Main Street Plymouth, Mass.
BORZAN BEAUTY SALON
End Permanents $1.98
Hair Cuts, Finger Waves, Manicure, Eyebrows and Hair Trimming
Priced at 25c
MISSES BORSARI AND ZANDI
20 North Spooner Street
Call Miss Zandi
Transparent Water Colors India Ink, black and colors
Brushes and Water Colors
Oil and Water Colors Sketching Books Drawing Papers
A. S. BURBANK
Pilgrim Book and Art Shop
70 THE PILGRIM
BAILEY MOTOR SALES, INC.
114 Sandwich Street PLYMOUTH, MASS.
Buick and Pontiac Sales and Service
G.M.C. Truck Sales and Service
A reliable place to trade
One of the best equipped Service Stations in this vicinity
24-hour servce: open day and night
Agents for Exide Batteries and General Tires
Don't forget — all of our repair work is guaranteed
A fine selection of Used Cars and Trucks to choose from at all times
DELIVERY and SERVICE
Repairing -- Pressing
Main Street Plymouth
JIM'S LUNCH and
Regular Dinners — A la Carte Service
Shore Dinners Our Specialty
5 and 7 Main St.
LEONORE'S BEAUTY SALON
Eugene Permanent Waving
Latest Methods of
40 Main St.
Class of '84
rC\\^ Phone 430
45 Court Street
BENJAMIN D. LORING
Fine Watch Repairing a Specialty — All Work Done
In Our Own Shop
28 Main Street PLYMOUTH, MASS.
J & S AUTO SERVICE, INC.
Repairs -- Gas -- Oil -- Servicing
TIRES and ACCESSORIES
111 Sandwich St. Plymouth
PLYMOUTH MEN'S SHOP
WM. CAVICCHI, Prop.
Quality Merchandise at Lowest Prices
18 Main Street Tel. 341
PLYMOUTH & BROCKTON
STREET RAILWAY CO.
"Get a Crowd Together and Go as a
Group — It's More Fun and Cheaper"
Sandwich St., Plymouth
Relief for Acid Stomach
BISMA - REX
Four Action Antacid Powder
Neutralizes Acidity--Removes Gas—Soothes
Stomach- -Assists Digestion
Big Bottle 50c
SAVE with SAFETY at
COOPER DRUG COMPANY
BEMIS DRUG COMPANY
"The 6 Busy REXALL Stores"
ABINGTON -NO. ABINGTON --ROCKLAND
"In Plymouth it's Cooper's"
Lovering Radio Service
For Your Home Or Car
4 Emond Bldg. Tel. 918 Plymouth
ENNA JETTICK SHOES FOR LADIES
TOMBOY SHOES FOR CHILDREN
EDDIE'S SHOE SYSTEM
18 Main St. EDWARD HAND, Mgr.
EARL W. GOODING
JEWELER and OPTOMETRIST
WM. J. BERG
Clothing and Furnishings
42 Court St. Plymouth
DR. THOMAS W. LOFT
Class of 1916
COUNTY AUTO SUPPLY, INC.
GAS, OIL and ACCESSORIES
Main St. Ext. Plymouth
WILLIAM F. GOODWIN
DR. A. L. DOUGLAS
THE LARGEST FURNITURE ESTABLISHMENT IN SOUTHEASTERN MASS.
Sherman's Hardware and Furniture Co.
2 BIG STORES
50 Court St., Plymouth 310 Court St., No. Plymouth
WHEN THERE IS BETTER WORK DONE
WE WILL DO IT
JOHN H. GOVI
Main Street Plymouth
WOOD'S FISH MARKET
The Ocean's Best
Main St. Extension Phone 261
W. L. MERRILL, M.D.
DR. FRANK L. BAILEY
Russell BIdg. Plymouth
ROSE SCHLECHT, Prop.
10 Court St. 24 '/ 2 Allerton St.
THOMAS F. RYAN
BANDER'S WOMEN'S SHOP
Misses' and Women's Apparel
at Popular Prices
54 Main St. Plymouth
84 Summer Street Plymouth
DR. E. HAROLD DONOVAN
GRAY THE CLEANER
For Your Shoes and Repairing
Honest Values and Dependable Service
52 Court St. Plymouth
J. F. TAYLOR
GREASE -- OIL - ACCESSORIES
E. C. Dunham, Mgr.
Main St. Ext. Plymouth
Burdett Business Training
Courses for Young Men: Business Administration and Accounting, as
preparation for sales, credit, financial, office management and
accounting positions. College grade instruction.
Open to High School Graduate'
Courses for Young Women: Executive Secretarial, Stenographic Secretarial,
also Finishing Courses, as preparation for promising secretarial
positions. Individual advancement.
Open to High School Graduates
Courses for Young Men and Young Women: General Business, Book-
keeping, Shorthand and Typewriting, as preparation for general
business and office positions.
Open to High School Graduates
training not required
for entrance. Many
leading colleges repre-
sented in attendance.
, n nr « v » * w
156 STUART STREET, BOSTON, MASSACHUSETTS
TELEPHONE HANCOCK 6300
Why JL should j>ut
shares NOW . . .
1. I know my money will be safe regard-
less of business conditions. 2. I can get
it when I want it. 3. This is the quickest way to reach my
goal, whether I save for next summer's vacation, for a honey-
moon-home, or for future security. 4. This is the easier,
simpler, more convenient way to get the extra money I'll
need to buy, build, modernize or re-finance a home.
PLYMOUTH CO-OPERATIVE BANK
44 Main Street Telephone 236
Member of Federal Home Loan Bank
For Graduation Gifts Give A Fine
Watch or Ring
We carry a complete line of nationally advertised Watches:
Elgin, Hamilton, Bulova, Gruen, Waltham. Pay as little as
50c a week. No interest or carrying charges. The credit
price is never higher than the cash price.
/ / I
DR. E. P. JEWETT
OLD COLONY LAUNDRY
Kemp's Candies and Nuts
Luncheon and Home Made Pastries
63 Main Street
STYLE Plus QUALITY
Two Very Important Words in Our New Line of Sport Clothes for Summer
WASH SLACKS -- SPORT SHIRTS - SWEATERS -- NOVELTY HOSE
In Our New Style Line You Will Find Something Different
Agents for BOSTONIAN SHOES
MORSE & SHERMAN
WM. J. SHARKEY
One of Our Customers ? ? ?
SHE IS YOUNG, ALERT, INTELLIGENT —
SHE KNOWS WHAT SHE WANTS AND WE
ENDEAVOR TO SERVE HER NEEDS.
SHE IS MODERN AND EFFICIENT AND WILL
NOT TOLERATE INCONVENIENT, MUSSY
AND OUTMODED MEANS OF LIVING.
Plymouth County Electric Co,
Plymouth Gas Light Co.
WHITE HORSE PLAYLAND
Members of P. H. S. faculty remain-
ing in Plymouth for the summer are
prepared to tutor in many high school
Call Mr. Wayne M. Shipman, Princi-
pal, for further information.
BOWL AND BE HAPPY
WHITE HORSE BEACH ALLEYS
Sundays 1 to 11 P. M.
For Reservations Call Manomet 22 J. D. WYNER
Make your next automobile investment the
soundest money can buy
Pay for it through the
UNIVERSAL CREDIT COMPANY
at the rate of
(after usual, low down payment . . . your PRESENT car will
probably cover that)
We are offering this finance plan, as well as other plans figured at the rate
of Vz of l'/< (6% for 12 months) on the original unpaid
balance and insurance.
Get complete details and a ride in a New Ford V*8 by calling
Plymouth Motor Sales
Authorized Ford Sales and Service
181 COURT ST. Tel. 1247-W
COLLEGE OF LIBERAL ARTS
Offers a broad program of college subjects serving as a foundation for the under-
standing of modern culture, social relations, and technical achievement. The
purpose of this program is to give the student a liberal and cultural education and
a vocational competence which fits him to enter some specific type of useful
COLLEGE OF BUSINESS ADMINISTRATION
Offers a college program with broad and thorough training in the principles
of business with specialization in ACCOUNTING, BANKING AND FINANCE, or
BUSINESS MANAGEMENT. Instruction is through modern methods including
lectures, solution of business problems, class discussions, professional talks by
business executives, and motion pictures of manufacturing processes.
COLLEGE OF ENGINEERING
Provides complete college programs in Engineering with professional courses in
the fields of CIVIL, MECHANICAL, ELECTRICAL. CHEMICAL, INDUSTRIAL
ENGINEERING, and ENGINEERING ADMINISTRATION. General engineering
courses are pursued during the Freshman year; thus the student need not make a
final decision as to the branch of Engineering in which he wishes to specialize
until the beginning of the Sophomore year.
The Co-operative Plan, which is available to the students in all courses, provides
for a combination of practical industrial experience with classroom instruction.
Under this plan the student is able to earn a portion of his school expenses as well
as to form business contacts which prove valuable in later years.
Bachelor of Arts
Bachelor of Science
For catalog' or further information write to:
MILTON J. SCHLAGENHAUF, Director of Admissions
THE PILGRIM 79
Graduates of PLYMOUTH HIGH —
"V7"0UR four years of High School are over. Yet your lives
are only beginning and the knowledge which can be yours
is only limited by yourself.
The well informed person keeps in touch with national, state
and local affairs. His source of information comes from
recognized newspapers. Local affairs may be followed accu-
rately through the columns of the Old Colony Memorial —
recognized and acknowledged to be "New England's Finest
Weekly Newspaper." Establish the habit now of reading your
Plymouth Newspaper every week.
1%/TORE and more individuals, business establishments and
manufacturers are turning to The Memorial Press of
Plymouth for the production of their printing requirements.
The Memorial Press is the largest printing plant in South-
eastern Massachusetts and fully equipped in every particular
for the rapid and economical production of printing orders.
THE MEMORIAL PRESS
MIDDLE STREET, LLyMCLTL, MASS.
Boston Office: Plymouth
40 CENTRAL ST. Tel.: 77
Tel.: Cap. 5490